Temple Guardians
by Ruthie of the Wildcats
Summary: Orphaned at birth, a small litter Wolfos pups find their way into the arms of the Kokiri girl who would be the Forest Sage, Saria. Under her care, they grow to become what they were always destined to be: Temple Guardians. Rated for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**If there's one thing I love about fanfiction, it's that you can give anything a good backstory. And that's what I love to do best. I love taking the littlest things from books and games, and giving them a background, and that's what I'm about to do now. If you've ever played **_**Ocarina of Time**_** until the Forest Temple, you may or may not remember the first enemies you face there. If you don't, just for the record, it's two Wolfoses.  
****Well, as I said before, everything deserves a backstory.**

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own Zelda.  
****Setting: slightly before Ocarina of Time to right in the middle of it.  
****_  
Warning:_**** _This chapter contains blood, and...er, childbirth. How else would you get Wolfos pups? Anyways, if blow-by-blow descriptions of new life entering the world gross you out, kindly scroll down to the bottom of the page. I'll recap in much less vivid detail._**

Blood ran down the swollen sides of the she-Wolfos in bright, crimson streaks. Her yellow eyes narrowed as a low, threatening rumble built up within her deep chest. Dark lips pulled away to reveal the gleaming white teeth hidden underneath. The thick fur on her shoulders rose stiffly as she tried to makes herself appear bigger than she truly was to intimidate her foe. She snapped and snarled loudly.

The beast standing before her was a strange creature, like none she had ever seen in her life. Its scent was dark and somewhat akin to rotting vegetation; the Wolfos had caught traces of it occasionally in her runs through the Forest, but had never seen the beast that bore it. Its face was round and pudgy, almost cublike, but its red eyes glowed with malice. The armor on its shoulders was worn and breaking. The Wolfos growled fiercely and made a move to snap at its muscular arms.

As she snarled, it lashed out at her again with the sharpened stick that was the cause of her numerous wounds. The Wolfos dodged nimbly and leaped around to its side, swaying on her paws as she landed. She whirled around, letting loose a harsh, grating bark of anger to hide her fear. The beast answered her cry with a loud grunt of its own. It lunged again, and this time the sharp-stick buried itself between her shoulderblades. The Wolfos's tail dropped between her legs, and she could not clamp down on a yelp of fear and pain, nor could she turn it into a roar of aggression. The dark-smelling beast reached for its sharp-stick, and the Wolfos's eyes flew open wide. She knew that if she stayed in the grove with the beast, she would die there. A stirring sensation in her belly made the decision for her.

She turned around and ran as fast as she could.

Her massive, clawed paws drummed the earth as the she-Wolfos ran for her life, and for the life she sheltered within her swollen flanks. Blood showered out behind her as the sharp-stick in her back wobbled and bobbed. The crimson drops spattered across the leaves and ran down in eerie, bloody fingers. Her breath came in ragged, hoarse gasps, tearing across her dry throat like the breaking of bones. She ran with the speed of desperation, her ears pressed flat to her skull, her tail tucked up tightly along the curve of her belly. Her heart throbbed against her ribs in a rapid, frantic dance.

The setting sun painted the ground with vivid spots of orange and red light. Trees blurred together into meaningless shadows that arched and leaped over the wounded Wolfos. She ran in panic towards the bleeding, dying sunset, feeling lost, alone, and very afraid.

* * *

Rosy red light pooled in warm lakes across the ground in a small clearing. At one end, the glade opened back out into the woods through a narrow, tree-lined tunnel. At the other end, a broken staircase led up into the mysterious, dark depths of an ancient temple. The crumbling stone seemed to encourage curiosity with warm gray arms and deter exploration all at once. One of the fallen blocks of stone lay just to the side of the old stairway, an ancient stair that had landed on its end. Perched atop it was a small, barefoot girl.

She was small and lean, with dark green hair and a small spray of freckles across her rounded nose. She wore a long-sleeved, green turtleneck shirt, with a soft green tunic overtop. The sleeves of her shirt were pushed up to midway on her upper arms, revealing a small bandage on her left elbow. A matching bandage could be seen on her right knee, as well as several grass stains. The boots she normally wore lay in a heap beside the rock. They were made of smooth, soft leather, and were cut to go all the way up her calves. Her bare toes wiggled, then clung to the sun-warmed rock beneath them. Her eyes were closed, and she was swaying from side to side gently as her nimble fingers danced over her ocarina. A pink fair bobbed beside her, its flicking wings sending showers of magic down with each stroke.

Crickets hummed tunelessly in the soft, toe-tickling grass that covered the ground. The girl paused in her playing, removed the ocarina from her mouth, and opened her eyes. They were the color of the summer sky: a deep, clean blue. The child sighed contentedly and set the wooden instrument down on the rock beside her. Then, she gathered her knees up to her chest and held them tightly with her arms. She rocked back and forth slowly a few times, then glanced over her shoulder at the fairy beside her.

"Fael, look at the sunset," she murmured, marveling at the rainbow-hued western sky. The fairy, Fael, dipped her fluffy body to signal a nod, and settled down on the girl's shoulder, nestling up closer to her cheek.

"It's beautiful, Saria," she agreed. Saria smiled.

"The Forest is peaceful tonight," the child remarked. She breathed in deeply and snuggled her small chin down between her knees. Fael uttered a soft laugh like the chiming of a small handbell.

"Tell me when it isn't."

Saria giggled and reached up with a crooked finger to tickle the furry fairy. "You've got me there," she admitted. Her gaze shifted back to the glorious, colorful sky, and her eyes took on a dreamy cast. "I just don't know. Sometimes it feels like something dark is trying to take hold here, something that should be kept away." She shuddered and hunched her shoulders up around her neck. "Or maybe I'm just imagining things for fun. It's getting late, anyways. I think we should head home before it gets too dark, Fael."

Fael bobbed in the air to signal another nod. Saria uncurled herself from her fetal position, stretching up to stand on the cooling stone beneath her. She hopped down nimbly, stashing her precious ocarina in a small pouch hanging from her black belt, and started to pull on her boots one at a time. Fael settled back down on the rock to wait. As she leaned back against her stair-perch, Saria hummed snatches of the song she had been playing. A calm smile stretched across her face, and the sinking sun played with the shadows the grin created.

* * *

The pregnant Wolfos skidded to a halt, panting from her frenzied dash through the darkening woods. Her chest heaved up and down painfully. The sharp-stick was still buried in the middle of her back, although by some miracle the blood flow had been reduced to a mere trickle. Her legs felt weak and wobbly as a newborn pup's, and the action of standing seemed to put unbearable strain on them.

A ripping, tearing sensation raced along her flanks, bringing the Wolfos into a crouch of pain. She whimpered. That same spasm had been twitching along the length of her body the whole time she had been running, but now it was getting worse. It was that sensation that had forced her to stop. The stirrings of the cubs in her belly had been getting more frequently, too, she noted with some alarm. Her wide, golden eyes flicked from side to side as she stood panting. She needed to lie down. Now.

A stick cracked behind her.

The she-Wolfos leapt into the air in surprise, her pelt bristling. Her mind recalled the grunting roars of the beast she had so narrowly escaped from. It would be chasing after her, she was sure, coming to claim its sharp-stick and her life. The stick had probably been broken by something as harmless as a rabbit, or perhaps a deer. Prey. Prey was safe, she told herself. Prey would not hurt her, it would be repelled by her predator-smell.

The undergrowth shuffled ominously.

Her teeth flashed in the bloody light, gleaming sharp and dangerous. The beast might have been able to keep up with her...If it caught her now...She shook her head vigorously, then staggered slightly from the wave of dizziness the motion had brought on. Her breathing was starting to even out, and unfortunately so were the agonizing contractions. Her pups were coming. Now. With the beast chasing her.

The breeze in her face carried a phantom trace of that dark, rotting, dead stench.

The Wolfos snarled and let out a loud, aggressive bark to show the beast that she was not through yet. She whipped around and lunged, heavy-pawed, through the tangled undergrowth, only to stop short a few heartbeats later. The sharp-stick embedded in her back was stuck, snared in the crotch of a sapling tree. The Wolfos strained forwards, digging her claws into the soft earth to pull herself along. Saliva dragged in thick, sticky ropes from her muzzle to trail in the dirt. Her breathing was hard, and each exhalation brought a small whimper of pain from her mighty chest.

With a ripping noise, the sharp-stick tore loose, taking a chunk of flesh from her narrow back. The Wolfos tumbled forward, head over paws. She landed painfully on her injured back in a small clearing, a landing which elicited a short yelp from her mouth. She dragged herself to her feet slowly and eased herself up. Another crippling wave of pain sent her back down to the ground, where she lay, panting, bleeding, dying.

A small gasp caused her ears to prick forwards.

She opened one eye weakly and whined. A Man-pup stood before her, its tiny, pale paws pressed up against its round face. Almost at once, the Wolfos noticed the peaceful aura emanating from the Man-pup. The air in the glade was warm and easy to breathe. She relaxed for the first time since her encounter with the beast. The Man-pup uttered a tiny, quiet cry like the yip of a scared pup.

Another contraction caused the Wolfos to roll over onto her side. The grass below was soft and springy, perfect to line the nests of her newborn pups. Briefly, the Wolfos wondered if she would live long enough to make their nests. If not, she thought, then perhaps the peaceful Man-pup would be willing to do it for her. Spasm after spasm racked her tired, weak body. The Man-pup dropped down beside her and rested its paw on her flank lightly. The smell of fear radiated from its slender, two-legged body, and the she-Wolfos reached around to lick its trembling foreleg comfortingly. She was not dangerous, not now.

A gush of warm wetness at her tail told the Wolfos that the birth had begun for real now. She dropped her head to the ground and whined in anticipation of the pain to come. She felt too tired to bring the cubs into the world now, but she knew that there was no way to rest. Her fangs gritted together as she bore down, focusing all her strength into the rolling muscles in her lower body. Her breath snorted in and out through her dry nostrils, and she dug her claws into the soft dirt at her paws.

Through the worst of her pain, she felt a delicate ruffling in her fur, a stroking motion that seemed to soothe her shattered nerves. She realized that it was the Man-pup petting her, fondling her thick, coarse pelt lovingly. She sighed in relief, glad to know that at least someone in these woods wanted her to be comfortable.

* * *

When Saria saw the head of the first Wolfos pup emerge into the world, she thought she was going to be ill. It was sticky, slimy, and covered in blood and mucus. She watched in mixed horror and amazement as the shoulders that, when properly muscled, would give the beast its trademarked forward-slumped shape, followed. The rest of the pup all but slid out from the mother's body. Its small body was wrapped in a pale, filmy membrane that was partially translucent. Saria watched the Wolfos twist around to clean the pup off. When she was finished, the mighty mother grasped the pup by the scruff of its neck and set it at her side.

The pup wormed its way across the tickling grass to the Wolfos's exposed belly. It was small, probably about a foot in length—tiny, when compared to its mother, who stood five feet at the shoulder. Its gray fur was dark with wetness, plastered down over its small body. Its eyes were tightly shut, its ears pressed flat to the sides of its head. It had stubby claws that looked quite soft, almost malleable, and which poked out from its round, pudgy paws at odd angles. The little newborn reached its mother's side, poked around for a nipple,. Then latched on and started to nurse hungrily.

Saria couldn't help a small, awed gasp at the sight of the infant Wolfos. Tears blurred her vision at the simple beauty of the creature, and in a fit of pure love for the laboring mother, she twined her fingers in the big Wolfos's mane-like ruff and kissed her forehead. The yellow eyes snapped open at the light touch of the child's lips, softening with the same emotions. "Don't give up," Saria whispered, continuing to stroke the she-Wolfos's long face. Streaks of clean appeared down her play-dusty face. "You're doing so beautifully...You're doing great..."

* * *

Though she had no idea what the Man-pup was saying to her, her words were kind and gentle, and the sound of them calmed the Wolfos down even more. Though her flanks were cramped painfully, she seemed to be worlds away from the pain. She snuffled around at the Man-pup's waist, and found a small pouch with wood-scent on it. She nudged the pouch curiously. The Man-pup reached into the pouch and pulled forth a small wooden object. She asked something that the Wolfos did not understand, hesitated, then put the wood to her lips.

Beautiful music streamed out around the pair of them the moment she did. The she-Wolfos sighed contentedly, turning her eyes up to look at the Man-pup. A vague tug at her tail-end attracted her attention. The second pup had found its way into the sunset forest. Filled with powerful love for her new pup, she reached out with a gentle forepaw and brought the pup closer to her mouth. There, she proceeded to clean it off and dry it a bit, all while listening to the wonderful melodies swirling around her.

The birth of the third pup nearly escaped her notice. It was all coming along so easily now, she barely had time to feel the squeeze of the pup's shoulders. Turning around to study the newest addition to her litter, the Wolfos saw that she had delivered a runt.

Instinct filled her with dislike that the music could not blot out. Runt pups were a waste of milk. They were magnets for diseases and predators that would endanger the lives of the healthier cubs. Most Wolfos mothers chose to end the lives of any runts they brought into the world by neglecting to free the pup from its birth-sac, refusing to feed it, or simply by killing it themselves. She decided on the last option.

Teeth like white knives flashed in the light of the setting sun as the Wolfos growled with hatred for the runt pup squirming feebly in its birth-sac. She bent her body around until she was facing the runt, then took its wriggling body in her powerful jaws. At once, the music stopped, and the Man-pup let out a fearful cry.

* * *

Saria was horrified at what she was seeing. The gentle mother Wolfos was ready to take the life of one of her own children. The ocarina fell from her mouth, bounced off her knees, and rolled to a stop a few feet away. "No!" she cried, tears rolling down her face in terror. "No! Please, stop! Don't hurt it!!"

All of a sudden, she remembered the creature she was dealing with. This was not a harmless house-dog...This was a wild animal, a Wolfos at that! She may seem tame now, but that didn't make her any less powerful or dangerous. Saria heard her pulse, loud and like thunder, booming in her slender, pointed ears. Her breath came in quick, shallow pants. A cold sweat began to creep across her face, and she barely felt Fael's warm body when the fairy landed lightly on her shoulder. She clutched a hand to her chest fearfully, wondering what the confronted beast would do to her now.

The Wolfos hesitated, turning her massive head to face the child. She deposited the pup at her paws, licking her lips and fangs in confusion. Saria felt the urge to take advantage of the creature's confusion and save the cub's life. She shook her head and put her hands overtop the sticky membrane enclosing the newborn Wolfos. "No," she repeated in a quiet, disbelieving voice. "Please, don't hurt it...I know it's smaller than the others, but please give it a chance..." Her voice wavered as she spoke.

She locked eyes with the adult Wolfos, and was suddenly aware of just how big it truly was. The paw resting in the meadow's grass by her knees...It was bigger than her own face, with claws as long as her fingers. Muscles bulged and rippled along the length of those big forelegs. The teeth she had seen were as big as the knives she sometimes used to cut up vegetables. The Wolfos lying before her may be docile now, but when confronted, she could be the monster from the Kokiri girl's worst nightmares.

Silence, heavy and tense, weighed down the air like summer humidity. Saria withdrew her hands, and the Wolfos's head descended onto the pup. The child buried her face in her arms and started to sob and cry. Fael hummed down beside her head and flicked her wings rapidly around the girl's ears to block out any sounds. Saria was sickened and fearful. She didn't know if she would be able to raise her eyes, even if the mother Wolfos had finished slaughtering her child.

The rub of a dry nose brushed her knees, and against her better judgement, Saria looked up. Her eyes flew open wide as she realized that the Wolfos before her was nursing _three_ pups. No blood covered the creature's muzzle, and her warm yellow eyes spoke volumes to the trembling child. Saria wiped her eyes with the back of her hands and smiled weakly. "Thank you," she whispered shakily. She bent to kiss the she-Wolfos's nose and received a warm, wet lick in reply. A giggle escaped her.

* * *

It was a moment of weakness, yes, but she was glad she had spared the life of the runt pup. Killing the pup would have distressed the Man-pup, and right now the Wolfos felt she could use the company. The blood from her back now seeped under her belly and matted the grass stickily there. As she laid her head down on the ground, the Wolfos realized something that struck with a kind of dim surprise. She was going to die here.

She wondered if the scavengers were already massing in the stretching shadows, waiting to be the first to taste her once-living flesh. She wondered what would come. Keatons, with their dandelion pelts and dainty paws? Takkuri vultures, with their hooked beaks and tearing claws? Or would the beast come for her at last, holding aloft its newly-reclaimed sharp-stick? The Wolfos grimaced slightly at the last thought.

The beast. The pig-nosed beast. The rusty-armored beast. The killing, stabbing beast. The beast. It was the beast's fault that she was dying here, the beast's fault she had been split off from her pack right as she was about to give birth. She hated the beast. She hated its sickly, rotting stench...She hoped one day it would rot and stink and be just as low and forgotten as the dead plants it smelled of. The beast. How she hated the beast.

Her breathing slowed, becoming deeper and easier. Motes of dust and Forest magic drifted in the darkening air. The face of the Man-pup leaning over her was full of shadows, with only a little light showing around the edges. The Wolfos reached up weakly and licked the side of that round, innocent face. She was glad that the Man-pup was here to be with her as she died. But she wanted the Man-pup to do one last thing for her. Her mighty head slowly fell back down to the ground, and she pawed something towards the Man-pup. It was the wooden object that made so much beautiful music.

She wanted to hear that music one last time with her pups before she died.

The Man-pup picked up the object and nodded. Small streams of water leaked from her dark blue eyes as she lifted it up to her mouth. The dying Wolfos curled her body around her cubs as the sweet sound wove around her. She gave each drying pelt a sniff and a lick. Two males, two healthy sons. The runt was a female. Her head fell down beside her paws, muzzle resting by the three nursing cubs. Her eyelids were growing heavier by the second, slowly drawing her yellow eyes shut. Her tired heart bounced around in her chest with a slow tiredness. She breathed in quiet, long pulls. Every muscle in her body relaxed as one. Dying wasn't as bad as she feared. It was just like falling asleep.

With the last of her strength, the dying mother looked up at the Man-pup. She tried to convey her thanks with the warmth in her closing eyes, but the Man-pup's eyes were closed. She was swaying back and forth with the tune of her music. The Wolfos sighed. Her eyes fell shut. The last of her breath escaped in a final, sighing breeze.

* * *

Saria continued to play, even though she knew the Wolfos had died. The tears coursed down her cheeks freely, and the song she was playing took on a wobbly sound as she sobbed for breath. But she did not stop playing. She barely knew the dead Wolfos lying at her feet, but she felt compelled to play her spirit off to the next life. It was the least she could do, she decided.

When Saria played the final note of her song for the Wolfos, she held it out for as long as her lungs allowed. Then, she took the ocarina from her lips and rested it in her lap. In the dim light of the stars, she could just make out the shape of the Wolfos's muzzle.

She could have sworn it was smiling peacefully up at her.

Shivering slightly, the Kokiri bent down to pick up the three sleeping pups. They whimpered as she lifted them into her arms, and she felt obligated to hold each one down by its mother's body for a few moments. Then, their goodbyes said, the pups snuggled as one up against her chest. Saria headed towards the less dense part of the woods she had made her home in, pausing at the edge of the meadow to gaze back at the mother Wolfos.

The light of the stars and moon bathed the shaggy body in a dim glow. From this distance, Saria thought, she looked like she was simply resting. And perhaps she was.

The runt pup started suckling at the girl's fingers, and Saria realized that she needed to find a warm place to keep the cubs. Her stomach growled hungrily. She barely stifled a yawn. All of these things sent her feet thudding across the ground, headed home. She was striding briskly, not quite running, but not exactly walking. Fael bobbed behind her, casting a warm, rosy pink glow on the path ahead.

* * *

A warm, summery breeze picked up, rustling the grass of the Sacred Forest Meadow and tousling the thick pelt of the dead Wolfos lying there. The spear that had condemned her to die that night lay a few feet away. It looked harmless in the soft, white light from the heavens above, like a child's toy tossed carelessly aside. The trees' branches, thick with leaves and flowers, whispered together under the stars. It was impossible to believe that so much blood had been spilled only hours before.

Then, from the darkness of the thick trees, a shadow appeared. The spear was lifted into its thick, bulky hands. The air became rich with the rotting smell of the Wolfos mother's hated beast. It glanced at the dead creature without any kind of pity or remorse, then tramped off, back into the darkness it had emerged from. The breeze stopped, and for a few minutes the thick stench of the beast hung over the sacred clearing.

The breeze picked up again, clearing the air of the odor. But it could not erase the beast's final mark. Though dead, when the monster had set foot in the glade, the Wolfos's teeth had bared and frozen into a final snarl of pure rage.

**Okay, the run-down for the squeamish people. Basically, it's this pregnant Wolfos gets attacked by a Moblin that she calls "the beast." She's been fighting it for quite some time, when it buries its spear in the middle of her back. She takes off running and winds up in the Sacred Forest Meadow, where Saria is with her fairy (who, for simplicity's sake, will be name Fael—yes, I know it sounds like "fail." That doesn't mean anything). Saria helps her deliver three pups, the last of which is a runt. The mother Wolfos dies, and Saria takes the pups back with her into the Forest to raise them. Awww...**

**The story starts out a few years before **_**Ocarina of Time**_** actually takes place, so all the Kokiri are a little younger than they might appear in the game (this includes Link). So...yeah. **


	2. Chapter 2

Daylight, golden and bright, slanted into the small treehouse in dusty rays through the pulled window shades. The small room had the appearance of childlike simplicity. In one corner sat a small fireplace, filled now with black ashes and charred wood. Beside the fireplace was a small, child-sized table with two equally little chairs. Across from the table was a large window, complete with a sill wide enough to sit on. Smaller windows were scattered throughout the rest of the house, but none were as large or welcoming as the big one. By the larger window was a shelf laden with pretty crystals, feathers, leaves, and even a beautifully carved stick. A winding ramp made of hard-packed soil led up to a platform, on which rested a bed. Sprawled across the bed, her legs tangled in the sheets, was a small girl. Three Wolfos pups were snuggled up close to her.

Saria awoke slowly, first squeezing her eyes shut against the morning light, then opening them languidly with a muted whimper. She sat up, feeling confused and disoriented. The events of the previous night were all jumbled up in her head like a stream after heavy rains. She vaguely recalled blood, more blood than she had ever seen before. Blood and tears, and the sweet sounds of her ocarina...What a strange combination. The Kokiri looked down at herself, noticing in passing that she was still wearing her daytime clothes. What really attracted her attention was the three pups that were whining at her sudden movement. One of them had made a puddle on her sheets, but that didn't really bother her. She was bothered more by the fact that they were all trying to nurse from wads of the bedclothes.

Fael bobbed and flickered overhead, her wings scattering motes of dust and magic. "How are we going to feed them?" the fairy asked quietly, voicing Saria's own worried thoughts. The Kokiri girl opened her mouth to answer when she was interrupted by a loud knock on her door.

"Saria!" a boy's voice called. "Are you all right, girl? It's almost noon, and no one's seen you! You've never slept this late before! Saria?"

Saria put a hand to her mouth in guilty surprise and glanced up at Fael. The pink fairy was glowing yellow with unease. Quickly, the young girl stood up and pulled on a clean change of clothes. She glanced at her reflection in the shard of mirror hanging from the wall by her bed (the Kokiri had found a full-length mirror outside their Forest a few years before, and had used a clever combination of ropes and sticks to drag it in. Once it was theirs, they had broken it and given each Kokiri a piece of their own.) Her hair was a bit of a mess, but she decided on an excuse for that. After a quick check to see if she'd missed anything, the girl walked over to the door and opened it.

The boy standing outside was roughly the same age as she was, with tangled reddish-brown hair and piercing, dark blue eyes. He sported a cluster of freckles on each cheek and a proud grin between them. He dressed similarly to Saria, wearing a spring green tunic made of soft, worn fabric. The boots on his feet were less tight-fitting than hers, made of supple brown leather that looked comically large—almost floppy. At the sight of the girl, he settled the green cap he had been holding back onto his head, grinding it down so that it nearly touched his ears, which came to a small point at the ends.

"Saria!" he repeated when she appeared. "Hey girl! I thought you were going to sleep through the whole day!" He narrowed his eyes in what seemed to be an attempt at a sly expression. "Listen, I've been looking all over for you. The Deku Tree's warming up for another story...I was wondering if you'd want to come and sit by me when we go listen." He shot out his hand briskly, holding it palms-up. Saria couldn't stop a wry smile from creeping across her face. Mido only thought he had charm.

_Saria, I don't think you can,_ Fael's voice whispered in the back of her mind. _The pups are hungry. We need to find a way to feed them before they starve. Remember, they're babies! When Link was a baby, he had to be fed every few hours._

The Forest girl sighed. "I'm sorry, Mido," she apologized softly. "I've got...something important to take care of. Thank you for the offer, though." She hoped she was letting him down gently enough, and that he would understand.

Mido pulled in his hand, looking disgusted. He folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah, whatever," he grumbled. "I bet you're probably just going to go and listen with Half-Boy, aren't you?" Saria opened her mouth to protest, but Mido cut her off abruptly. "You know, he's not a _real_ Kokiri. It's not just that he doesn't have a fairy...He came from the Outside—"

"The Great Deku Tree said we were never to talk about that!" Saria whispered in shock, her eyes widening nervously. Her hands clenched in defensive fists at her sides as she took on a more pleading tone of voice. "Come on, Mido, you know better that to say those things about Link!"

"It's true and you know it!" Mido retorted. "You were there with me when the woman from the Outside came in here with him!"

_Saria, the pups..._ Fael pleaded. Saria unconsciously glanced over her shoulder worriedly. Mido leaned up on his toes to try and peer around her. His brow wrinkled in confusion as the girl tried each time to block his view.

"Mido, I'm sorry. I said I had something important to do, and I—"

Mido scoffed and stormed off in a huff. Saria sighed wearily and put a hand to her forehead. She leaned back against the doorframe, muttering angrily to herself. The pups were hungry, Mido was in a mood, and some very unpleasant memories were being brought forwards in her mind. Yes, she _did_ remember when the Hylian woman entered the Forest. She and Mido had been two of the older Kokiri at the time, along with Mido's sister Fado. She remembered being given guardianship of the Hylian baby by the Deku Tree, as well as the Tree's warning that no other Kokiri should know the child's secret. Saria looked up from the memories to see Fael hovering in front of her face.

"Is everything all right, Saria?" the fairy asked. Saria sighed and stepped back inside her home, motioning for Fael to follow her. Once inside, the girl shut and locked her door, then leaned her back against it. "All right, I recognize the 'no.'"

"Fael, do you remember when Link's mother appeared in the Forest?" Saria asked. Her voice sounded choked, as if she was holding back tears. Fael bobbed a nod. "That was the first time any of us there had seen any injury other than a scrape or a bruise...The first time any of us had ever seen a baby..."

"Yes, I was there. I remember you seeing the woman the way she was gave you nightmares for weeks afterwards."

Saria looked up. "I'm trying to think of why it feels so important to me right now," she murmured. She climbed the ramp leading up to her bed and sat down on the white sheets, gathering the pups into her lap. Their bellies looked horribly shrunken. The girl wondered if going a few more hours without food would be the end of them. She was terrified, but still wondered why that day felt so vital to her. "Help me out, Fael..."

* * *

"Hey Mido! Have you seen—"

"Out of my way, Half-Boy!" Mido snarled, thrusting out his arm at the speaker. He succeeded in pushing the smaller boy away and into the small pool that sat in the middle of the Kokiri Forest. The child surfaced, spitting out a small fountain of clear water and rubbing at his eyes. He treaded water and watched Mido pass, a frown crumpling up his round face.

The unfortunate boy's name was Link, and he was Mido's usual punching bag and bully victim. Sodden bangs of golden-blonde hair were plastered to his furrowed brow, stream of water leaking down to fall down the boy's cheeks. He blinked the water out of his dark blue eyes, then gave his head a brisk shake like a wet dog. Link dressed no differently than the other Kokiri boys, wearing the same green tunic and brown leather boots. The cap he normally wore had fallen from his head when Mido pushed him, and was now slowly sinking to the bottom of the pool. He looked to be a few years younger than Mido; whereas Mido appear to be seven or eight, Link looked to be four or five.

"I'll get a fairy someday, Mido!" Like shot back angrily. He slapped a fist down on the surface of the water. Unfortunately, what had started out as a dramatic gesture wound up backfiring, as the resultant splash surged up and doused the already-soaked child. Spluttering, he tried to continue his defense. "S-someday—phtt!—a fuh-fairy's gonna come to me. Fahh...ptoo!" By the time Link had managed to clear the newest spray of water from his face, Mido was already gone. The boy sighed and started for the edge of the pond. He hauled himself out of the water and sat shivering in the sunlight beside it, a disappointed scowl sitting heavily on his face.

"I _will_ get a fairy someday," he muttered angrily, glancing around for a rock to throw into the water. "And when that happens, Mido won't be able to say anything else bad about me, because I'll be a _real_ Kokiri then!" Frustrated, he gave up the search for a rock—the failure to find it only increased his bad mood. His eyes widened as he saw his green cap being nibbled at by the small minnows in the pool. "Aww, _Scrubs_!" he swore, his voice taking on an edge of tears. "First Mido, and now this!!"

Sniffling back the angry tears that threatened to burst out, the little boy took a gulp of air and dove back into the pool after his cap. His round cheeks bulged with held breath, and his hair was tugged to and fro by the subtle currents underwater. He shooed the tiny fish away with his hands and latched his fingers tightly around the soft green cap. With a rapid scissor-kick, he sped back up to the surface and blew out the breath he had been holding. He crammed the cap back onto his head huffily and once again pulled himself out of the pond. Water spilled down from his sopping wet tunic to puddle on the ground at his feet. He sighed wearily and slowly headed back to his own little treehouse. At the foot of the ladder, he stopped and looked up the small ridge at Saria's own house.

"Mido went looking for her," he said to thin air. He was imagining that he was talking to his fairy...the fairy he would have one day, he hoped. "I thought I heard her voice when he was over at her house, but I didn't see her. Maybe she turned him down." He glanced up out of the corner of her eyes, envisioning a fairy hovering there. "Let's go check it out, okay, fairy?" With that, he backtracked up the small ravine in front of his own home and headed for Saria's.

Link hesitated at the door for a few moments, then knocked timidly. "Saria, are you there?" he asked. His voice had the high-pitched, lilting quality of a young boy's. "It's me, Link. Do you wanna come and play? We could go swimming...I mean, we might as well, seeing as I'm already wet." He leaned a little closer to the door, smiling almost to the tips of his pointed ears. To his surprise, it was not the door that opened, but the window. The boy cocked his head around to see his friend.

"I'm sorry, Link," Saria said, smiling sadly. "I...I've got a lot on my mind right now. Maybe later this afternoon, or sometime tomorrow. Sorry." Link's face fell, and he dropped his gaze downwards to keep her from seeing it. The toe of his right boot dragged a small circle in the dirt.

"That's okay," Link replied, trying to keep the awful sound of suppressed tears and crushed hope out of his voice. "I mean...I'm kinda hungry anyways. Maybe I'll go and grab my slingshot and shoot down some Deku fruit." He looked up. "You want me to bring you any?"

"Thanks, Link." Saria beamed down at him. "I'm really sorry about today." She winked. "You'd better change out of those wet clothes before you go out fruit-shooting. Don't want to catch a cold now, do ya?"

Link grinned and thumbed his nose. "I never get sick!" he told her. Saria grinned wryly and folded her arms on the windowledge. She leaned her head down so that it was just above her arms and cocked an eyebrow.

"How about last year when you gave everyone the stomach flu?" she asked. Link's eyes widened briefly in surprise, and he quickly glanced to the side to avoid her knowing gaze. "You remember...Everyone was throwing up for _days_! And who brought it in? _You._ You came back from an exploration to the creek in the Lost Woods saying your stomach hurt, and before long everyone else was sick."

"Maybe there was something in the water," Link muttered, although he knew Saria was right. He _had_ been the first to get sick, and everyone who had been near him that day—Saria, Mido, one of the three Know-It-Alls—had gone down soon after. "All right, you win. I'll go change first." He smiled up at his friend. "See you around, Saria, Fael!" He waved and started back for his own home, turning around only when Saria closed her window.

* * *

Saria smiled as she retreated back to the bed where the three cubs lay sleeping. Her smile took on a sadder cast to it as she gazed down at the tiny scraps of fur. She shook her head hopelessly. "I wish I hadn't been there when they were born," she murmured thickly. "Then I wouldn't have gotten them into this awful mess. Fael, they're going to starve like this."

"I don't know what else we can do," Fael sighed, her body rocking from side to side hopelessly. "It's not like you can nurse them yourself!"

Saria looked up, her eyes glowing with comprehension. She grinned. "Say that again," she whispered intensely. Fael flashed yellow briefly.

"Uh...It's not like you can nurse them yourself?"

"I don't _have _to nurse them!" Saria hissed happily. She leapt into the air and did a short dance of happiness. She plucked Fael out of the air and twirled around while holding onto the fairy's gossamer wings. In a voice rich with giggles, she explained, "Now I know why the day Link came to us was so important, Fael!! When I was telling him to change into dry clothes, that's when I started to get the idea! I'm not his mother, but I still managed to help raise him—and I never once had to nurse him like his mother would have! Do you know what this means?!"

Fael was bewildered by the Kokiri girl's sudden change in attitude. "What? What?" she demanded, somewhat dizzily. Saria stopped spinning about and hugged the fairy to her chest. She was laughing and dancing around woozily.

"It means that these pups have a chance to live!!" Saria lost her next words in a fit of giggles, and had to wait to catch her breath and regain her balance before she continued. "Back when Link was still a baby, I remember how Fado and I had to make him special food. I remember that Mido tamed one of the wild goats in the Lost Woods so we could have milk for him—and we still have that goat! Babies need milk, and that's what we can get from the goat!"

Fael's body exploded with brilliant pink light as she zipped exultantly up into the air. "You're right!!" she cheered. "Oh, Goddesses, you're right, Saria! I'll watch the pups, you go find Mido's goat!"

Saria giggled. "I turned Mido down earlier when he wanted me to listen to the Deku Tree's story with him, and that really made him mad," she squeaked. "But Fael...Now I'm really going to _get his goat_!" Fael chimed her bell-like laugh, and Saria scurried over to the large window. She sat down on the wide sill and peeked out the curtains. Link was heading for a small grove outside the village, slingshot in one hand. She waited until he was out of sight, then headed out the door.

* * *

The goat Saria had spoken of was munching on grass in a small pen behind the Big Boss's house. A leather collar was tied around its neck with his name scratched into it. The goat was a shaggy-furred creature that truly looked feral. Its short, gray fur was variegated from dark to light, starting at a near-black stripe running down its back. **(1)** Two horns, slightly curved at the end, jutted out from the top of its head. When Saria neared, the goat lifted its head and studied her with golden eyes. The Kokiri girl smiled and made soft clicking noises with her tongue. "Come on, Nara," she crooned, holding out her hand and rubbing her fingers together. "Come on, girl..."

Nara bleated and walked towards Saria, her cloven hooves lifting high with each dainty step. Saria nodded and made encouraging noises. She was hesitant to milk the goat—Fado usually did that, and whenever one of the boys had approached Nara, the goat had kicked them soundly. Although...Fado said she only did it because boys were too rough when they milked her. Saria climbed over the wall of the pen and set down the bottles she had brought. Nara sniffed them carefully and thoroughly. She seemed to know what was coming, because as soon as Saria knelt down, the she-goat turned to the side and presented herself for milking. The Kokiri gave Nara's ears a gentle rub, then set about milking.

She had only milked Nara once before, and that had been because Fado had been feeling sick. Rather than risk giving the then-infant Link food that had been touched by someone with the flu, the girls had decided that Saria would be the one to get the milk. She recalled vaguely that she had to squeeze the udders, but she was hesitant to squeeze them too hard, or not hard enough. Nara waited patiently and chewed. Saria took a deep breath and took the soft, pinkish udder in her hands. She positioned the bottle with her foot, and squeezed. White, hot fluid spurted out, filling the bottle to its halfway mark with a sort of ringing sound.

Nara uttered a soft, somewhat indignant-sounding bleat and turned her head to examine Saria. The look of _Just what exactly do you think you're doing, child?_ that was so plain on the furry face was too much for Saria. She lost herself in a fit of giggles. "S-sorry, Nara," she stammered, grinning sheepishly. "I didn't mean to startle you." Nara bleated again and returned to her grass. Saria wiped a few strands of hair out of her face with the back of her hand and squeezed again. Another jet of warm milk topped the bottle off. Nara made a soft mutter of dislike, but did not turn around or move to kick the young girl milking her. Grinning with a kind of feverish excitement, Saria capped off the first bottle and set it aside. One down, three to go.

The second and third bottles were filled much faster than the first as Saria picked up on the rhythm that Nara was used to. The girl licked the foamy drops on her hands when she had capped off the third and final bottle. Nara turned to look at her then with calm satisfaction. "Thank you so much, Nara," Saria whispered, rubbing the goat's ear fondly. Nara let out a contented bleat. "I'll be back tomorrow, all right?"

Her arms full of the warm bottles, the child hopped the fence nimbly and started back towrads her own house. She hesitated at the door, fearful for a moment that she would be too late. She gave herself a brisk mental shake, her eyes narrowing in thought. If one of the pups had died, Fael would have found her and told her. The girl opened the door and stepped inside her home.

The tinkle-buzz sound of fairy wings told her to expect Fael's body right up in her face. The pink fairy hummed around Saria anxiously. "Thank Goddesses," she breathed. "You're back, Saria! I was beginning to worry!"

"How are they doing, Fael?" Saria queried, her eyes wide and nervous. Fael's body, yellow with fear, slowly began to glow pink again. Saria heaved a sigh of relief and headed up to her bed.

The other two pups had made "puddles" now, but again, that was the least of Saria's concerns at the moment. The larger male pups were stretched out, their stomachs sucked in painfully. The little runt was curled into a ball, half buried under a fold of sheet. The three were whimpering and pawing the blankets feebly, the runt more weakly than the others. The Forest girl settled herself down on the bed and gathered the cubs into her lap. The runt was the first to be fed. Saria popped a hole in the cap of the bottle with her teeth and offered it to the tiny Wolfos, cradling its soft, furry body like she would a baby. The little female was so small, she could be held in the crook of one arm.

It took a few feeble sucks before the runt discovered the way to nurse from the nipple-less bottle, but once she did, she fed fiercely. Saria laughed softly, reminded of all the times she had fed Link when he was a baby. She recalled how his tiny hands, soft and pink, had made little grasping motions at her face, while his wide, blue eyes gazed up at her. The Wolfos runt did not open her eyes, but she did knead the air around the bottle of warm goat milk. Saria watched her flattened stomach slowly bloat with milk, and before the bottle was half-gone, the pup started to pull away. Carefully, the child lifted pup and bottle upright, and brought them apart. Frothy milk ringed the Wolfos's tiny muzzle, and a dribble of white ran down her chest. Saria laughed and patted the pup's little belly. She set the runt back down on the sheets and reached for the smaller of the males.

The smaller male was quicker to grasp the motions of suckling. His plump paws actually came up and attached themselves to the sides of the bottle. As he nursed, Saria noticed he made a very distinctive _bicca, bicca_ sound, his little head jerking back and forth as he sucked down milk. She smiled and tickled his furry stomach. "Bicca, bicca, bicca," she mimicked softly, her blue eyes warm and loving. He finished the bottle his sister had half-drunk, then settled down in Saria's arms. The girl held onto him for a few moments longer, stroking his soft, fluffy pelt, then set him down beside his sister. She reached for the last pup, took him into her arms, and started to feed him from the second bottle.

The largest of the Wolfos litter was a bit more of a handful that his two siblings. He struggled a little when Saria tried to pick him up, resisting the gentle grip that only wanted to see him fed. Once he figured out there was food involved, however, he stopped fighting and settled down like a rock. The girl giggled. The big pup had no trouble finding out how to get at the milk Saria offered him. He, too, latched onto the bottle—with all four paws! His stubby tail lashed from side to side jerkily as he tried to pull the bottle out of Saria's hands. She grinned as she recognized a troublemaker. The third cub drank more than three-quarters of the bottle before he was sated. Saria brought her face close to kiss his milk-covered muzzle and received a little lick from a small, hot tongue. She laid him down beside his two siblings and sighed with relief.

"I can't believe we did it," she breathed to Fael, shaking her head in amazement. "And here we have three full-fed Wolfos pups. It's amazing, isn't it, Fael?"

"Really is," the fairy agreed. "By the way, what were you going to name them?"

The fact that the idea had not even crossed her mind yet caused Saria to burst out laughing, and she laughed so hard for so long that tears came to her eyes. She was always the first one to want to name something, the first to make it belong. She had been the one insisting that the Deku Tree name Link _then and there._ Every time a new Kokiri was born, she was there asking what their name was. And she hadn't even considered this as a possibility for the three Wolfoses in her care! Fael seemed to realize this, and the two shared a good laugh. After a few moments, Saria recovered her composure and smiled.

"Well...I guess we should start," she said. She picked up the largest pup and cuddled him in her arms. He was snoring softly, his belly full of warm milk. Saria smiled with motherly love. "You need a strong name, because you're going to be very strong when you are grown. Iamb...That's what I'll call you." She kissed his forehead and set him back down on the sheets.

She picked up the other male next. He was asleep when she laid hands on him, but once he was in her arms, he squirmed into wakefulness. She offered him a finger to suckle to keep him from whimpering. _Bicca, bicca_, he grunted. The girl grinned. "You seem to have a good idea," she told him. "If you insist on saying it, I guess I have no choice to bend to your wishes." She traced the small white line that ran from a dab on his forehead to the end of his long muzzle. "Bicca it is." She set Bicca back down, next to his brother Iamb.

The runt was next. Saria thought long and hard before choosing the name for the adorable little female. She wanted it to be something distinctly feminine, something both noble and gentle. She cradled the she-cub in her arms for a few minutes. Her eyes wandered around the floor until she spotted something bright red. It took her a bit to register what she was looking at: a pennant flag. She had helped Link make one of his own for one of the festivals the Kokiri had held in the past. Glancing back at the Wolfos pup, she noticed that the gray fluff of her pelt had a reddish wash to it. She smirked happily. "Penata," she said aloud. "That's what I'll call you: Penata."

"Iamb, Bicca, and Penata,** (2)**" Fael echoed, settling down on Saria's shoulder to rest. "Great. Now that we've named them, you'll never be able to let go of them, not even when they're as big as their mother." Saria laughed.

"Probably not," she laughed. Her laughter died after a few chuckles, though, as a more sinister thought crossed her mind. _If they ever live to be that big._ The close shave today made the young girl realize that she was probably in over her head. She recalled the fear she had felt when she saw just how big the she-Wolfos had been, and wondered what it would be like when three Wolfoses of that same size were roaming around her house. How long would she be able to keep them a secret from the other Kokiri?

Fael seemed to sense her anxiety, and the fairy rubbed up against her cheek comfortingly. "Let's just take this one day at a time, Saria," she advised. "Let's love them while they're young and loveable, and decide how to handle them when they're older." Saria nodded. She laid her hands gently overtop the sleeping pups, who had clustered together into a small mountain of fur and puppy fat. Her eyes were soft as she nodded again. Somehow the way Fael had said it made all her worries vanish, leaving only an overpowering feeling of love for the Wolfos pups.

**(1) How can fur be shaggy and short at the same time? It's short, but it's very scruffy-looking.**

**(2) Cookies to whoever knows where I got those names from!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter might seem a little strange, so I apologize in advance. If I find a better way to fill in the spot between the last chapter and what I have planned for the one after this one, I'll change it (unless people like this chapter). Bear with me, please.  
****And, just as a warning, this chapter is going to be a lot shorter than the other two. The reason for this is that I can't seem to get the story to flow from the end of the second chapter into the next part of the plot gracefully. I guess you can call this a "filler" chapter if you like. I promise you things will get a lot better once I move past this evil block.  
****Oh, and Twilight Stallion (Tails! I'm apologizing all over the place! Don't get any on ya.)...I'm sorry if part of this chapter sounds a bit like part of your story. **

After that first, painful day of indecision, Saria was able to add a bit more to her scant knowledge about the mysterious, secretive creature known as the Wolfos. She learned that goat milk was a passable substitute for the milk of their mother. She saw that they were quick to learn and solve problems (such as how to suckle from something that wasn't made to be suckled from)—even before their eyes had opened, at that! Finally, and perhaps most important: She discovered that the pups, even runty Penata, were hardier than they appeared, and were able to go without food for longer than she would have thought. Though she didn't want to push to find out just how long "longer than she would have thought" was, the Kokiri felt satisfied knowing that the adopted cubs would not starve if she left them alone for a few hours at a stretch.

Fed by Nara's milk, the young Wolfoses were growing well. Seven days after their birth, Saria noticed a difference in the weights of Iamb and Bicca when she held them for feeding. The flesh beneath their gray pelts now had a small layer of fat, and the two brothers ate more than ever. The girl was disturbed by Penata's apparent lack of growth; though the Wolfos did not appear to be starving to death, she was clearly not as strong as either of her littermates. She tried coaxing the runt to drink more, or to feed more often, but Penata seemed bound to a strict diet: She would drink half of her bottle, then pull away and refuse anything until a few hours later. It was frustrating and worrying, but Saria was afraid to do anything but what Penata wanted.

Before her evening encounter with the dying mother Wolfos, seven days would not have seemed like a long time to the child. She was one of the Kokiri tribe, a race of eternal children who lived in a mysterious Forest far away from chores. The Kokiri's days were full of nothing but warmth, games, friends, and exploration. With so much free time, a week seemed like nothing more than a handful of days spent playing until the sun went down. Seven days...It would have been like mere minutes to her in the time before she became the mother of three Wolfos pups.

But since that night, nothing had been the same. Saria's days were now filled with responsibility, something she had not been weighted down with for what felt like an eternity—the last time she'd been so home-bound was when Link was still a baby. She hated waiting until the cubs' bellies shrank and flattened before feeding them; now she spent her time measuring out the hours until their next feeding. She got out of the house some, yes, but not nearly as much as she was used to. All too often, she would be down at a creek fishing for minnows with her friends, or hiking through the woods, or simply enjoying the beautiful afternoon...when suddenly Fael would alert her that it was time to feed the pups, and the poor girl would be forced to abandon her fun to care for them.

The stress began to show physically. Her clothes were messy. Every night, after giving the pups their evening feeding, she would often curl up in bed beside them wearing the clothes from the day. Her hair, once pulled back from her face and tucked so neatly behind her favorite headband, now straggled in her eyes and looked dull. Her eyes began to lose their brilliant sparkles, and dark circles appeared beneath them. In place of the glimmering light was a dark and hunted look. At times, her eyes would lock with someone else's, and a pleading look would flash across her face for a fleeting instant. She wanted to ask for help, to have someone to confide in, but she didn't dare.

Deep down, Saria was terrified to ask for the help she knew she needed. She was haunted by the knowledge that she had done something Forbidden. (The word always sounded like it had a capital letter to it because of its severity—though the Kokiri were children, they rarely had anything Forbidden to them.) She had endangered her friends by taking in the three young predators. There was no guarantee that the Wolfoses would return the love and care they had been shown once they grew to hunting age. They could very well turn on their loving surrogate mother and destroy the entire tribe. The girl hated to admit it, but she knew it was true. They were harmless now; she could not say for sure they would _stay _that way. If anyone found out that she was raising the potentially dangerous creatures, they would be abandoned in the Lost Woods, and Saria could not bring herself to risk that. The Wolfos pups were Forbidden, but they were also secret, and they were her secret.

The other Kokiri were getting suspicious of their friend's mysterious self-isolation. They would knock on her door after she made a disappearance, often startling her as she was feeding the pups. Her door stayed locked, something it had never been as long as anyone could remember. Saria knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found her out...She only hoped it would be after the pups' eyes had opened, whenever that was going to happen.

* * *

_Boing! Boing! Boing!_

The small ball kicked by Fado bounced to a stop on a tuft of grass not far from Link's boots. The boy bent over to pick it up in the typical little-boy manner: knees straight, feet planted together, bending at the waist while sticking the rear end up in the air. He jerked up holding the toy in both hands, grinning happily. Thrills of excitement ran through his blood, and he ran a few steps before throwing it to one of the Know-It-Alls. The boy, though his eyes were obscured by a layer of thick, scruffy, light brown hair, stepped nimbly to the side and snagged the ball in the air. He then spun on his heel and tagged the running girl with the ball.

"You're out!" he cheered. Fado crossed her arms and huffed, pouting slightly as she walked off the field. "Good stop, Link! We wouldn't've gotten her if you hadn't been there." The rest of the small team offered similar praise.

Link couldn't help a little caper of glee. He leapt into the air and clapped his hands together exultantly. Mido stepped up to the small, flat rock being used as "home plate" with a cocky sort of saunter. He narrowed his eyes and tried to spit, but only succeeded in a few small drops that mostly spattered on his tunic. This sent Link into a quiet fit of giggles. The little boy wiggled in his place expectantly under Mido's hot stare. The blonde girl pitching the ball adjusted her grip, then let the ball roll towards the Big Boss.

"Too slow!" Mido stopped the ball with his foot and kicked it back. "C'mon, Jano, pitch it like you mean it!" Jano, the pitcher, frowned, her tongue poking out to lick the fine sweat from her upper lip. She cocked her arm back and let the ball fly. Mido paused, aimed himself, and unwound a vicious kick that sent the kickball screaming past the infielders.

Link, still feeling victorious from his last play, let his pride get the better of himself. "I got it! I got it!" he cried excitedly, his short arms stretching up towards the speeding toy. "I got it! Mido's as good as out now!! I got it! I go—!"

Just as he uttered the last word, the ball slammed into his round face with sickening speed. The other Kokiri children flinched as one, letting out a group moan of "Oooooh..." Link staggered backwards for a few moments, his arms flailing for balance, the landed flat on his bottom. The ball fell away from his face and rolled down his front, leaving a small, spotty trail of red on his tunic as it did. Blood ran in clear, bright streams from his nose. His blue eyes were wide, but somewhat glazed. The others took a few hesitant steps toward the boy, but it was clear that no one wanted to be the first to reach his side. Link offered them a dazed grin.

"I—I'm okay," he panted. "Really, guys...It's just a little...a little..." His eyes widened as a particularly large drip of blood dropped from his nose and into his lap. His hands reached up slowly to touch his upper lip, then moved in front of his face while he examined his red fingertips. Suddenly, the realization that he had been hurt surged through his mind like an icy arrow, and the young boy's breathing started to come in hiccuppy sobs. His lower jaw quivered, his vision blurred, and before long he had burst into tears. Jano broke ahead, and soon the others followed her lead. They crowded around the fallen boy, repeating his name and asking how he felt.

Jano was the first to see the solution. She turned to the nearest Kokiri, Fado. The two locked gazes, and Jano said, "Fado, go get Saria. She'll know what to do for him."

The look on Fado's face clearly asked _Why do __**I**__ have to be the one to get my head bitten off?!_ But she nodded nonetheless, and took off in a blur of green and yellow towards the now-reclusive Kokiri's house. As she ran, she passed by Mido, who was tentatively sidestepping away from Link and the others, a nervous look on his face. He seemed far from remorseful, although it was clear that he had not intended to kick the ball hard enough to actually hurt the younger boy—at least not _that _seriously.

* * *

"Saria! Saria! Are you in there?" Fado called repeatedly, tapping her fist against the door in a quick, staccato rhythm. Her forehead was creased with worry, her blue eyes shifting from side to side with each knock. She was nervous about interrupting Saria—there was no telling what kind of mood she was going to find the other Kokiri in.

Fado recalled the days when she and Saria had been inseparable friends, always confiding in each other, staying up all night whispering secrets. She knew that Saria was deathly afraid of the spider-like Skulltulas that could be heard scratching and chewing in the night. Saria knew that she—Fado—secretly wished that the Kokiri _could_ leave the Forest...if only to be able to see what lay outside the trees that sheltered them. The past week had gone by with agonizing slowness for Fado, as well as for her friend, with the blonde girl wondering if she would ever be able to giggle in the night with Saria again. Filled with a sudden pang of anger for the slowly spiraling friendship, Fado lashed out with her fist at the door in a loud, swift knock.

The door swung open on its hinges. It was unlocked.

Trembling slightly, the blonde Kokiri girl entered the house. The shades were tightly drawn. The only light came from the open door, and even that didn't seem to be enough. The air was warm, and smelled heavily of animal urine and musk. Fado gulped, her pulse pounding in her ears heavily. "S-Saria?" she stuttered. She was scared stiff, and her legs shook pitifully with each step into the darkened room. "Saria?" she tried again, raising her voice slightly. Shuffling noises came from the direction of the young girl's bed, causing Fado to wonder if Saria was simply sleeping. That would explain the darkness and the lack of response. "Saria, we were playing kickball and—"

She stopped dead, her words failing her, as she realized that now there were _sounds_ coming from the bed. Not sleepy-Saria sounds. Animal sounds. Yipping, whimpering sounds. Suddenly the air got thicker and heavier, and the smells more powerful, and the door further away, and the light dimmer, and—

"What are you doing in here?!"

Fado whipped around, hand to her heart, as a shadow fell across the strip of light coming from the open door. She wanted to cry with relief as she recognized Saria standing there. She smiled, feeling so wonderfully at ease—until she realized that Saria was not smiling back.

The other Kokiri girl stood in the doorway, her arms folded tightly against her chest. Her mouth was a thin, grim line drawn diagonally across her face. The dark crescents under her eyes took on a bruised look, their shadows enhanced by her scowling face. Her eyes were narrowed angrily and blazed with blue fire. Though in reality she was no taller than Fado, she seemed at least six feet tall. In a firm, serious voice, Saria demanded again, "What are you doing here?"

"I...I..." Fado tried, but the words were charred to fine ashes in the fire of the glare she was under. Saria made her way to Fado's side with quick, mincing steps. Fado nearly burst into tears. She never thought the day would come when she was afraid of her own best friend. She felt terrible, so horribly...betrayed. Saria stood before her, arms folded, eyes burning, waiting all too patiently. In a surge of tears, Fado's will crumbled into dust. "We were playing kickball, and Mido got up to kick, and Jano pitched it to him, and he kicked it, and Link caught it, but he caught it with his face, and now his nose is bleeding, and I don't know if it's broken, but no one knows what to do, so Jano sent me to get you, and I came in because the door was unlocked, and then you were there, and now you're here, and now I have to ask you, so what should we do, because no one knows, and you're good with this stuff, and I don't know if Link's gonna bleed to death, but—"

The words sprayed out of her mouth at such an amazing speed that Fado felt as if she were vomiting them. Saria watched her the whole time, her gaze never shifting. Occasionally one of her ears would twitch, and her body would shift slightly in the direction of the bed, but she did not move her feet. When Fado reached the last of her speech, her hand flicked up, cutting the other girl off. "I'll be right there," the Kokiri said in a frighteningly grave tone of voice. "Wait outside while I get my first-aid kit together."

Fado did not need to be told twice. She all but bolted out the door. Only when she got back to the field where they had been playing kickball did a thought occur to her. When she had entered, Saria's arms had been folded over her chest, but that had been because she had been holding something in them.

Three full bottles of milk.


	4. Chapter 4

The sun had barely risen when Saria set out from her house. Enough of the night still remained to keep the thin, gray light from bringing out any color other than blue in the quiet landscape. A few stars glimmered like sentinel jewels above the Kokiri Forest, winking weakly as they slowly surrendered their hold to the approaching sunrise. The sky was dark, save for a small spreading of pale gray-gold in the eastern horizon. Clouds lay in layers like thin, old blankets, to be evaporated when the sun truly began to shine. Scattered choruses of crickets punctuated the otherwise silent dawn, and near the edge of the Kokiri village, an owl hooted twice.

Saria stepped outside into the blue, drowsy Forest hesitantly, her eyes flickering from side to side almost fearfully. In her arms, she held a blanket-wrapped bundle that whimpered every so often. Her eyes dropped the hunted look and grew soft as she pulled away a fold of the fabric and gazed down at the three Wolfos pups she was holding. Bicca wormed up closer to Iamb, his narrow muzzle seeking the other cub's cheek with clunky, jerky movements. Penata drew her forepaws up against her chest tighter. With a loving murmur, Saria replaced the blanket over the pups. She turned to Fael, who was hovering by her ear. "I think this is the safest thing we can do for them now," she whispered. "It's no good for them to be in the village when their eyes open. I don't want them to think of it as being their territory." Fael bobbed a nod, and the two of them set out into the dewy morning.

"Fado, wake up..."

The blonde girl's closed eyes squeezed once, twice, then opened slowly. The world fell into focus reluctantly, and it took her a few moments to realize that Saria was crouched on the bed beside her. Fado's eyes flew open wide and she flung up her arms to embrace her friend...until she remembered the previous day.

But Saria's eyes no longer held that daunting blue fire, and the dark circles below them seemed to have lessened overnight. They were full of the ever-present calm and friendly glow Fado remembered. The green-haired girl offered a tentative smile before Fado knocked her flat with a thrilled hug.

"Saria! I was so scared!! What happened yesterday? What was up with you there?" Fado felt as though her questions were flooding out of her in an excited babble. It wasn't long before they _became_ an excited babble, and she found herself spewing out any syllable her tongue could shape. Saria waited calmly, patiently, her smile growing into an amused smirk. At that, Fado stopped trying to speak, and simply dropped down on the bed beside her old friend, her heart leaping joyfully in her chest. "Saria...you're back," she breathed. Saria laughed softly.

"I guess so," she replied. "I'm sorry for what I did yesterday, Fado. It's just...there's something that's been on my mind for a while now, and it's just been getting worse."

"Tell me." Fado rolled onto her stomach and put her chin in her hands, kicking her feet lazily behind her. "Maybe I can help you with it...I'd do anything to help, you know that." Saria sighed sadly and the high corners of her grin dropped a few inches.

"I wish I could, but...It's too complicated." Regret flashed behind the dark blue eyes of the young girl, and she dropped her gaze away from Fado's expectant face. "I came to apologize and to tell you something else. I'm heading back into the Lost Woods for a while, to think this whole thing over. Maybe a few days will make the answers clear to me."

Fado dropped her hands down onto the mattress with a soft, blanket-muffled _thump_. Her feet fell behind her with an identical sound. She couldn't stop her lower lip from jutting out a bit in a disappointed pout. Her forehead creased in a frown. "Saria, that's not fair!" she protested. "We haven't seen more than two seconds of you for a whole week now, and you say you need to spend more time away. When are _we_ going to be important to you again?" She realized as soon as she'd said it that _we_ could be interpreted as more than simply _the rest of the Kokiri_; it could also mean _you and I as friends_. Saria sighed, and Fado knew her words had struck a guilty chord in her friend's heart.

"It shouldn't be for much longer," the other girl answered. Each word came out slowly, as if Saria were paying special attention to the sound of every vowel and consonant. She sounded hesitant, and Fado wondered briefly if _she_ was the intimidator now. "Fado, I'm sorry...I know I've been keeping to myself for a while now, but—"

"All anyone wants to do is help you through this. We want the old Saria back." Fado paused, fearful to say what wanted to come out of her mouth next. She gulped audibly, took a deep breath, and whispered so intensely that each word seemed to fly from her at the speed of light, _"I told Mido I'd heard shuffling things in your room yesterday, I couldn't help it, I was so scared of what it might be. He and the others are going to investigate today, so get whatever it is out and put it somewhere where they won't find it!!"_

Saria blinked, then scowled. Her breathing came in quick, harsh pulls, and the furious blaze returned. Fado cringed, whimpering apologies, and waited for a verbal lashing. The sound of Saria's breathing filled her ears as the other girl bent down over her friend. It sounded as though she were trying to regain some form of calm. Fado waited, and heard her friend's voice in her ear a heartbeat later: "Thanks for the warning. I'm moving them out to the Lost Woods today, but it's good to know you're still looking out for me, Fado. I'm sorry...I have to go now."

Then she was up and moving towards the door with disturbing speed. Fado pushed herself up. "Wait!" she cried out softly, keeping her voice low for fear of awakening the other Kokiri. Saria turned. "Can't you tell me what it is you're hiding? I can keep a secret, I swear! Even if it's the worst thing in the world, I'll never tell anyone, not even Mido!"

Saria smiled, almost sadly, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't. It's too...It wouldn't do them any good. Please, tell Mido and the others I went to my usual spot to think. I'll be back in a few days, I promise. Four days. If I'm not back by then, you can come into the Lost Woods and look for me yourself." She smiled a little wider, hoping to coax a similar response out of her friend, but Fado remained glum-faced.

"I hate all these secrets, Saria," she muttered dejectedly. "They're making everything so hard to handle. You go and do your little thinking bit. I'll be there in four days to bring you back." Saria sighed, winked, and left. Fado turned away from the door and laid back down. She felt horrible—betrayed even! It was a terrible thing, she realized, to live in fear of your own best friend. It was disgusting to spend each encounter with that person agreeing with their every statement like you had no free will or thought, just to keep them from turning their rage on you. She was sick of defending someone who had recently stopped defending her in return. She was tired of living in fear of her best friend. **(1)**

But at the same time, so was not so much afraid _of_ Saria as she was afraid _for_ her. What kind of secret was the girl hiding that had turned her into such a monster? With a sigh, Fado settled herself back into bed, holding the sheets close to her nose as she breathed. She could still catch a small trace of the light, breezy, rainy scent that she remembered on the old Saria.

Nara bleated as Saria passed her pen, eyeing the full bottles in the girl's arm with a kind of bemused curiosity. She strained towards the blanketed folds in the other arm, only to have the child gently push her nose aside. "No, Nara, you don't want to smell them," she murmured. The goat snorted and pawed the ground with a cloven hoof.

Saria smiled as she followed the path that the old goat's eyes took. A bush sat just outside the walls of the pen. The branches were twisted around each other and covered in dense, dark green, needle-shaped leaves. A few bright red berries clung to the branches. The child noticed the hungry look in the goat's eyes and saw how she was straining towards the bush. Something flickered in the back of her mind, some small feeling of foreboding. But Saria was still feeling guilty about her meeting with Fado—which hadn't gone anywhere _close _to as smoothly as she'd hoped it would—and felt the need to do _something_ to make someone happy. With a warm smile, the girl set down the bundle of cubs and pulled off a branch for Nara. "Here you go," she whispered, setting the bough down just outside the pen. "This is what you wanted, right?" As if agreeing, Nara bleated happily and set about munching her newest source of food.

Again, the girl felt a small shiver of uncertainty. She knew there was something about that plant she knew...something important. Iamb (she could tell it was him; none of the other pups had a voice quite like Iamb's) let out a whine of discomfort as a drop of dew dripped onto his snout. The child jumped and left Nara to eat, gathering up the pups and heading for the trees.

Saria snuggled the cubs close to her chest as she pushed through the curtain of vines and lithe branches that screened off the entrance to the Lost Woods. They were squirming hungrily, and that was why she had brought the milk. The sky had gotten lighter, with the blues of night fading quickly into grays tinged with pink. Dew glimmered on the soft, short grass that covered the ground in a thick blanket. The sky in the east was bright, rosy pink now, with streaks of gold and orange surrounding the spot where the rising sun was starting to peek up over the land. Saria released her breath in a sigh of relief and took the log tunnel to the left. She knew she had told Fado she would be in her usual spot, and she felt guilty for lying, but keeping the pups a secret was her main concern.

She took another left turn, which led her to the small clearing that marked the end of the Kokiri Forest. A small shudder rippled through her small body at the very thought. It was had for her to believe that she was so close to a place where she could leave her home, the only place she had ever known—the only place she ever _would_ know, for no Kokiri left the Forest and lived. Crossing beneath the wooden bridge, the girl found what she had come in search of: a small cave. It was hollowed out into the side of the hill, about four feet high and six feet back. There, she built up a bowl-shaped nest out of fallen leaves and set the pups' blanket down within. The three sniffed and squirmed curiously, investigating their new surroundings as best they could.

"Are you really going to keep them here, Saria?" Fael asked. Saria nodded.

"I fixed everything back up at home. All the windows are open to air it out, because it smells like Wolfos in there. I made sure I washed all the sheets, too, and I made up my bed. I swept and dusted and cleaned...No one will ever know they were there." Fael, of course, had been there while she had done it all, but it felt good to say it all aloud. She sighed. "I just wish they weren't so...dangerous."

Silence fell as the girl picked up Penata to feed. She had taken to feeding the runt first, although Penata did not seem to have benefitted dramatically from the increased attention. A half bottle of milk every few hours, the same as it had been since her first day. Saria did not set the pup down when she had finished feeding her, though; instead, she held the little ball of fur closer. She listened to the soft rasp of air in Penata's tiny lungs and the steady thumping of her little heart. She breathed in the musky odor of Wolfos, which smelled less and less unsettling with each passing day. She felt the downy fluff of the cub's baby pelt, so wonderfully warm and soft. Her eyes narrowed to relaxed slits, glowing with warmth and love. Saria loved each of the pups, yes...But Penata held a special place in her heart. She felt as though she had saved the runt pup's life, and had therefore promised the mother that the tiniest of the litter would survive. Only when Iamb and Bicca began whimpering and growling (they had learned to growl now, which often got the girl's attention faster than whining) did she set Penata down and lift one of her brothers to feed.

Bicca was the second she fed. He placed his pudgy paws on the sides of the bottle and jerked his furry head back with each suck. _Bicca, bicca,_ he grunted. It was his trademarked sound, the sound that had given him his name, and Saria thought it was the cutest sound she had ever heard. He finished off Penata's half-drunk bottle eagerly and whined for more. His tail swished as Saria brought the second bottle to his muzzle. He latched on again and sucked down a little more than half in a matter of moments. Saria giggled and tickled his plump belly with her fingertips. "You're such a greedy little thing," she teased fondly, bending her neck down to touch her nose to his. Bicca slurped her face with a tongue white with milk foam. The girl laughed and cuddled him closer, burying her face in his light-as-air pelt.

She picked up Iamb last to feed, for obvious reasons. The firstborn of the Wolfos litter was clearly the strongest as well. All four of his paws grabbed the bottle from the Kokiri's hands and supported it while he suckled. Saria kept a few fingers on the bottom of the bottle, if only to make her feel like she was still needed. He polished off the half-bottle, then set to work on the third full one—which he finished with a rather large, loud gulp followed by a large, loud burp. He relaxed in the child's arms in one swift motion, cuddling up against her flat stomach to rest. Saria felt her heart melt as she held him to her chest.

Fael settled down in the empty spot between Penata and Bicca, her translucent wings folding up neatly as she rested. The two cubs rolled over simultaneously towards the fairy. Bicca's paw shot out and draped over Fael's pink body. Penata snuffled and snuggled up closer. Saria sighed happily as she stroked the chubby, chunky ball of downy fur in her arms. "Fael, they're growing up so fast," she murmured wonderingly. "I hope Nara doesn't get overworked providing for them...How much longer until we have to wean them, do you think?"

"I...don't know," Fael grunted. "Saria, could you...kindly move this big...lummox's...paw? It's...heavy..."

The girl grinned and reached over to tickle the pup's flank gently. Bicca squirmed, letting out a mewling murmur of contentment. He rolled onto his side, away from Fael, drawing his paws up to his chest like a squirrel's. The fairy let out a gusty sigh of relief. "Thanks. You're right. They're getting big now." There was a pause. "Well...the two males are, at least."

"Penata's getting bigger!" Saria protested. Fael rose slowly into the air, and the Kokiri child set Iamb down between his littermates. "She's just slower than her brothers, that's all. Don't worry, Fael. I know she won't be the biggest, but she _is _going to grow."

Fael paused for a moment, then said, "Well, you've got a few hours all to yourself, now that they're all fed and bedded down. What would you like to do? We could always go back and follow one of the creeks, or dance with the Skullkids, or just lay back and watch the clouds go—"

The fairy broke off suddenly as the steady clopping of horse hooves thundered from the outside end of the Forest. Saria leapt up, tucking a fold of blanket over the pups, and raced to the ladder beside the bridge. She scurried up the rungs and jumped onto the wooden bridge, checking what could have been a potential fall by grabbing the rope railing at the last second. Her eyes shining with curious excitement, the girl darted through the log tunnel. She stopped a few feet from the end and pressed herself against the wall to watch. Fael drifted down to her shoulder, her body glowing green with interest. "Fael...there are..._Outsiders_ out there," Saria whispered with all the glee of a child who had just stumbled upon a great secret. "I haven't seen one in so long...Do you think they still look the same?"

"Shh!" Fael sounded just as excited as the Kokiri girl. "Listen! They're talking!"

_"Ingo! Y'all better mind that we don't lose another crate o' milk! You owe me eighty Rupees from the last time y'all let one fall off the back!!"_

_"Yessir, Mister Talon, sir!" _

The second speaker sounded overly energetic, as if he were merely saying the words to get the first speaker to stop breathing down his neck. Saria stuffed her hands up against her mouth to keep her giggles in. Outsiders! Right outside the Forest! And only _she_ was there to hear them!! Glancing up at Fael, she leaned out of the shadows a little to get a better look at them as they passed.

The first thing she saw was the horse. It was a large, heavy draft horse, with stocky legs, powerful hooves, and a broad, muscular back. Its pelt was a beautiful shade of bay, with a white blaze running down its face and white socks on each leg. The hair around its mighty, thudding hooves was thick and feathery. Its mane and tail were sleek and black. The horse walked with slow, even steps, its muscles rippling under its hide as it strained against its harness. Rolling behind the massive animal, on large squeaky wheels, was a milk wagon. Saria gaped at the two Outsider men riding in childlike awe.

One of the men was portly and beginning to bald on the top of his head. The girl giggled at the sight of the thick hair that rested on his upper lip and under his bulby nose. Was that where the hair on his head had gone? He held the reins in his hands and was clucking his tongue at the huge horse towing the cart. The other man was lanky with a ratty gleam in his small eyes. He sat on one of the crates, but as Saria watched, he hopped down and walked beside the cart. He seemed to be loosening the gate that held the crates of milk inside the wagon. Saria watched him toss a rock into the bushes, and a few moments later, a small squadron of Peahat larvae whirred out. The draft horse reared with a startled whinny, causing the stocky man to cry out and tug the reins back sharply. In the midst of the distraction, the leaner man popped the gate open, and a crate of milk tumbled to the ground.

_"INGO!! Git over here and help me calm this big feller down!!"_

_"Yessir, Mister Talon, sir!!"_

The rat-eyed man quickly locked the gate again and darted over to help calm the startled stallion, who was prancing and shying nervously. Saria's eyes widened, and a small gasp escaped her. She couldn't believe that the lean Outsider had done what she had seen him do. She was unfamiliar with the concept of stealing, outside of borrowing and forgetting to give back. Yes, the stockier man did seem to shout a lot, but he didn't seem like he deserved to be _stolen_ from. She pressed her back against the log as the wagon creaked away. The rat-eyed Outsider glanced over his shoulder swiftly as he started to walk away, and Saria swore his eyes had met with her own.

"Do you think he saw you?" Fael asked when the two men had vanished from sight and hearing. Saria let out her breath in an explosive sigh that startled her—she hadn't been aware she'd been holding it.

"I don't know," she replied, licking her dry lips. She wasn't sure which emotion was stronger: excitement over seeing two Outsiders or the fear of them seeing her. "But that was pretty cool, huh, Fael? It's not every day you get to see Outsiders so close to our Forest...Ooh, but the Great Deku Tree would be so mad if he found out I'd been looking into their world like I was!!" She grinned sheepishly. "Well, that can't be helped."

The two walked back towards the Kokiri side of the log tunnel, glowing with excitement at what they had just seen. Saria found herself willing to forgive the rat-eyed man for stealing the milk—she was sure he had a good reason to do it. "The last time I saw one of the Outsiders, it was with Fado," she said aloud. "I remember it was a long time ago, and we were both standing at the log tunnel, wondering if we really _would_ die if we left the Forest. Then, out of nowhere, a man walked past talking to himself...We were both so scared. I think he saw us, though, Fael...He looked right at us and started rubbing his eyes."

"And the Great Deku Tree was _really _mad when he found out you'd been seen!" Fael laughed like a golden handbell's chime. Saria giggled alongside her, remembering the punishment she and Fado had endured: being grounded from any games with the others for a week and having to weed all around the Deku Tree's roots. It had been worth it, though, to catch a quick glimpse of the world outside the Forest.

Still warm with laughter, the child started walking across the bridge, back to the ladder she had scampered up so hastily it had almost been knocked over. With a bit more calm, Saria placed her hands and feet on the rounded fallen-branch rungs and made her way to the Wolfos pups' new den. She paused outside to finger the twisted branches of the bush growing at the cave's entrace. She hadn't noticed it before, but now that she thought about it, she realized it would have to be uprooted and replanted somewhere far away from the curious pups. Her fingers ran lightly over the dark needle-leaves, causing them to ripple like hay in the wind. She really did love everything about the yew-bush: its dark leaves, its knotty branches, the texture of the round and pungent crimson fruit. It was such a shame that everything but the flesh of those same red berries was toxic.

Saria yanked her hand away from the branch as if she had received a sharp slap from the bush for her gentle touch. She gasped, her breath catching up somewhere behind her breastbone. Her eyes widened in a mixture of fear and shame. Her knees started shaking, then gave out entirely, forcing her down to the ground. Tears sprang up from the corners of her eyes with such force and volume that they ran down her cheeks almost immediately. "No," she rasped. "Fael...no...Why didn't you _stop_ me, Fael?!" She threw back her head and let out a breaking sob. Fael, startled by this sudden change in emotion, could only stammer.

"Wha—How—You—Plant—Bad, how, what?"

In the barest of whispers, Saria breathed, "It's yew. I gave Nara yew this morning. It's...a very poisonous plant to animals like her. I _knew_ there was something wrong with it, but I couldn't think of what it was."

"Do you think there's still time to make things right?" Fael asked, settling down on the girl's heaving shoulder. Sobbing, Saria shook her head slowly.

"No. From the amount I gave her to eat...she's probably dead as we speak." The child turned her head. "Fael, without Nara...where are we going to get the milk for the pups?"

There was silence, broken only by the quivering breathing of the Kokiri kneeling beside a deadly bush. Saria and Fael stared at each other, mentally pleading the other to say the answer, to solve the problem. Neither wanted to sentence the cubs to death, but there didn't seem to be any other choice. With Nara dead, there was no practical way to feed them. It was hopeless.

Then, Sarai, with the agonizing slowness that seemed to be the only speed she was capable of at that moment, turned her head to the right. Her chin jutted upwards slightly, and her eyes locked onto the log tunnel at the end of the Forest. Fael's pink body began to shiver and shake nervously, flashing yellow fearfully. "S-Saria," she stuttered. "Y-you're not re-re-really going to...You can't!! No, I won't let you! It's stupid! Everyone says that the Kokiri die whenever they leave the Forest!!"

"Everyone _says_ they do," Saria murmured, her blue eyes taking on a determined blaze that silenced the frightened fairy, "but no one's ever actually _left_ the Forest before to prove or disprove that. And, Fael..._We're_ going to be the ones who do it!"

**(1) It really is a terrible feeling. Trust me. I would know.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I really don't want to have this part of the story be in two chapters, so this one will be kind of long. Bear with me. Thanks! –Ruthie**

Link sighed softly, the heels of his boots thudding dully in a lonely tattoo on the underside of the bridge he sat on. His shoulders were slumped forwards, his head bowed. Curtains of thick blonde hair fell in front of his eyes, screening them off from curious passerby. He was not crying...not yet, at any rate.

He hadn't been too thrilled when Fado had told him Saria was in the Lost Woods. The green-haired girl was his only steady playmate, and when she was gone, the others tended to avoid him. That had only made his day worse. No, the horrid day he was having had started out just after sunrise, when Mido had discovered that Nara, the old goat he kept behind his house, was dead. The loudmouthed boy had jabbed the accusatory finger in the direction of the only person he ever really blamed: Link. None of the others had believed Mido, thank Goddesses, but that didn't make things any better for poor Link. The thought that Mido would even _think_ he had done it was painful, and it had been the start of a very bad day.

"Why would I wanna kill Nara, anyways?" he mumbled under his breath, swinging his feet with angry force. "Yeah, she always bit me when I tried to pet her, but I didn't _hate_ her." He sniffed back hard, and by the feel and sound of things, the scabs from his unfortunate kickball catch were still there.

By the waterfall, another game of kickball had been started up. Link remembered bitterly how he had stood off to the side while they picked teams. He had hoped _someone_ would remember how selflessly and bravely he had put his face on the line to catch that ball, and that _someone_ would want him on their team because of his dedication...But apparently _someone _was_ no one_, because the game had started up without anyone so much as glancing at the boy.

Saria was in the Lost Woods. There was no one here to play with him. He didn't even have his own fairy to keep him company. He sighed again and let his feet hang limply down the edge of the bridge. "Why does everybody always ignore me?" he asked himself. "I don't have a fairy, but I'm just as much a Kokiri as any of them!" His voice got shaky, and his head dipped even closer towards his chest. "Why can't I be like everyone else?"

* * *

The sun had risen to noon, its light golden and warm. Even though she stood out of the shade of the thick trees, Saria felt none of the warmth. The skin on her arms and legs stood up in small knobs, and she was shivering fiercely. Her whole body felt as though it was encased in ice. She stood on the bridge in front of the log tunnel, gazing at the forgotten crate of milk. Her heart pounded in her chest like a racing rabbit. She could feel the throbbing of her pulse through her arms and legs, as if a tiny—but incredibly powerful—heart beat there. A fine sweat had broken out across her forehead, with a small drop streaking down the bridge of her nose. She looked up at the sky.

Noon. Saria could hear the pups whimpering faintly in their new den. Noon. They were expecting to be fed now, wondering where the warm arms and rich milk were. They were hungry. Noon. High noon. The girl let out a strangled moan and grasped one of the ropes running across the bridge to keep from falling. "Fael, I can't do this," she gritted. Her face was pale—the small scattering of freckles stood out like brown ants on a white tablecloth. Her eyes were wide, slightly glazed with fear. "I can't...I don't want to risk it. What's the use if it doesn't kill me right away? What it I'm not strong enough to make it back where it's safe?"

"Then don't," Fael soothed. "Saria, you tried your hardest—no one could deny that. It's harder caring for these three than it was caring for Link, because there's three of them and this time you're doing it on your own. You've done better than anyone else in the Forest could have."

Saria eased herself slowly up on the wooden slats of the bridge, still holding the rope in a white-knuckled grip. She shook her head and sighed brokenly. "I feel like I'm killing them," she whispered faintly. "Listen to them: They're asking me why I'm not feeding them now. How can I tell them that they'll never be fed again?"

Fael snuggled up against the girl's cheek. She listened to Saria's ragged breathing, felt the cold sweat covering the child's face, saw the faraway look in her eyes. "You need to get something to drink," she pointed out. "You've been sitting in the sun all morning, and you didn't eat anything at all. Let's go find you a nice, shady place to sit down...Come on, up you get."

Saria allowed the fairy to coax her into a standing position. Her legs trembled weakly as she rose, the bridge and ground swaying in opposite directions below her. True...Her mouth did feel dry, and her stomach was cramped painfully. She sunk her teeth into her lip, allowing the pain to bring her back into some state of reality. Yes...It wouldn't do the pups any good at all if something bad happened to _her_ while they were out here. Someone—perhaps one of the playful Skullkids—would find her soon enough, but no one would notice them. Numbly, she followed Fael down the ladder and deeper into the woods.

The soft, haunting music of panpipes that rang through the trees relaxed her, and soon the Kokiri girl forgot the hungry pups by the bridge. This was the Lost Woods. This was her home-away-from-home. She remembered that she was hungry and immediately darted towards one of the fruit trees growing nearby. Nimble as a squirrel, Saria darted up the trunk, weaving through the branches until she spotted a ripe cluster of Deku fruit. She picked one of the pale yellow grapefruit-sized fruits and weighed it in her hands approvingly. Her blue eyes glowed as she bit into the soft, juicy flesh. The taste was similar to peaches, but somewhat sweeter and richer. The juice ran down the corners of her mouth as she ate. Fael laughed. "You look like you're having fun!" the fairy remarked.

Saria licked her hands, savoring the sweet juice that covered them. She winked up at the fairy. "I am," she gasped—out of breath from devouring the Deku fruit in a matter of seconds! Fael laughed again, and the ringing of her laughter mingled beautifully with the music of the pipes rolling through the warm air. Saria sighed contentedly and laid back against the trunk of the tree. She felt guilty now, for eating when she still had to find a way to feed the cubs.

_Is Fael right?_ she wondered sadly. _Is there really no way for me to get at that milk? I _know_ there's a way...There has to be! I shouldn't give up on—_even without being spoken, the next words were painful—_trying to leave the Forest. Maybe it wouldn't kill me right away..._

"I heard that!" Fael warned her. "Saria, I'm not letting you risk that much. Get that idea out of your head right now!"

"I hate it when you listen in on me like that," Saria muttered. Fael wove a figure-eight in the air. The child sighed. "Fael, we have to do _something_. I'm not giving up on them now...I'm the only thing standing between them and death—although if I don't do something soon, death is going to find a way around me."

She sighed and drew her knees up against her chest, snuggling back against the sun-dappled trunk of the tree. Fael perched on a small twig by the child's face, adding the glow of her furry body to the bright, warm sunlight. Saria sighed softly, this time sounding a little less despairing. Her eyes drooped shut slowly, and before long, her face was pressed up against her knees as she surrendered herself to sleep.

* * *

In their tiny, dark cave, the three pups huddled together in a clumsy cluster. Their plump stomachs were receding and grumbling painfully. Bicca suckled the air tentatively, as if hoping a nipple would magically appear to him for feeding. Iamb flopped a forepaw, his soft face screwing up with wrinkles at the dry crunching of the leaves he found. Penata remained still and silent, her breath coming in quick, whimpery pants.

The world to the cubs was all dark and scent. Each buried their nose in the blanket beneath them, seeking the warm, comforting mother-scent. They only faintly recalled the first mother-scent, and even then, its sharp contrast to the current one made it seem like something else altogether. The dimly-remembered smell was sharp, dark, and rich with the sweet night. The mother-scent they knew now was light, fresh, and akin green things growing underpaw.

_Food,_ Bicca grunted, lifting his nose to seek out milk.

_Mother,_ Iamb muttered. He pressed his muzzle deeper into the cloth.

_Both,_ Penata whined, voicing her own desires. _Where?_

Neither male answered her question. They did not know, and they did not feel like responding to their sister. They were blind now, but they had both noticed that she was fed the longest, and that the mother-scent was strongest on her, and that she was far smaller and weaker. They could hear the mother's voice, and it was always the sweetest when their sister had left the nest. One thing was clear: The mother loved their sister the most. Bicca and Iamb both resented her for it.

Saria awoke to two bright eyes inches away from her face. She let out a startled scream, then quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as she realized it was just one of the Skullkids. The Skullkid's head was cocked to the side at an unnatural angle as it gazed at the girl who had been previously sleeping. The two eyed each other for a few moments in silence. Finally, the Skullkid spoke.

"You're out pretty far from home, sis," it said. Its voice was high-pitched and lilting, childlike...with darker undertones that suggested a darker past. "The Lost Woods get dangerous when it gets dark, y'know. If you're not careful"—it giggled—"_things_ might getcha!"

"Really?" Saria couldn't help grinning at the little imp. The Skullkid nodded seriously, pouting its big lips together. "What kinds of _things?_" Skullkid tittered again, then shook itself and put its hands on its narrow hips.

"Big things," it told her sternly. "Scary things. Big...scary..._things!!_ So you'd better be careful, sis."

Saria studied the little Kokiri-sized imp. The Skullkid's face was round and pitch-black, with tiny white stars for eyes and thick, pink lips. A straw hat was perched at a cocky angle atop its head. All of its clothes seemed to be made of dried, dead straw. Its limbs were stick-thin, but, as Saria well knew, were dangerously strong and limber. In one of its gloved hands, it held a reed pipe, one of the many such instruments that were responsible for the constant haunting melodies that rang through the trees.

"You're kidding me, Skullkid," she said finally. "There's nothing dangerous in this Forest, and you know it. The Great Deku Tree doesn't let anything bad take root here." She started to uncurl herself stiffly, wondering just how long she had been napping for. She could really only make out the Skullkid's face because of the chilling light that came from its glowing eyes. There was still some daylight left, but not much; the sun was probably below the treeline now.

The Skullkid considered her words for a moment, then went back into a graceful backflip to land on its hands further down the branch. So light was its body that the limb barely swayed at all. Its full moon eyes narrowed up into crescents as it laughed. "Yup!" it cheered. "You got that right, sis!! Say, are you staying the night?"

"Yes."

The Skullkid leapt up and landed neatly on its funny boots. It flung its arms up into the air joyfully and tugged at the branches above, causing a rain of late tree blossom petals to shower down on the Kokiri beneath. Saria giggled. "Great! Hey, stay tomorrow, too, while you're at it! We're getting so _bored_ living like this." Its head drooped a little and it removed its hat in mock sorrow. "We all know where everyone's going to hide when we play, no one can think up any new songs, and the Scrubs are getting too smart for our booby-traps—and you _know_ how long it takes for _that _to happen!" It looked up at her, holding its hands out in front of itself pleadingly. "Please, sis...say you'll play with us tomorrow."

Saria grinned. "Sure thing," she replied, holding out her hand for a high-five. The Skullkid gave a cheer and slapped her hand with its own, its thick glove flopping around loosely. "How long have I been sleeping here, by the way?"

The Skullkid pursed its lips thoughtfully. "We-ell," it drawled, "I don't know, really. I've been watching you for a while now...waiting for you to wake up so we could play." It sighed. "When did you fall asleep? The sun's long since gone down...Maybe we can play something in the dark if you're all rested up now!" Saria pushed herself up, cupping the drowsy Fael in her hands as she balanced on the wide branch.

Slowly, heart pumping with fear, she reached up and brushed aside some of the thick leaves of the tree. The small clearing the tree stood in was lit by a dim, purplish glow in the western sky. Most of the grassy ground lay in shadow, mysterious and forbidding shadow. Saria gulped softly. It had been noon when she had climbed the tree and eaten the fruit whose remains now glued bark fragments to her palms. Twilight was upon the Forest now, a violet, black, pre-night time. Goddesses only knew how long the pups had lain in the darkness of their little den. She shuddered, feeling even guiltier by the second.

The Skullkid hooked its arms around a branch and leaned back against it, watching the Kokiri girl's every move curiously. "Everything a-okay, sis?" it asked, tilting its head at that unreasonably sharp ninety-degree angle. Saria turned slowly, a smile creeping across her face.

"Skullkid...tell me something," she murmured. "Are you...able to leave the Forest?"

The Skullkid flipped back over the limb with a whoop of surprise. It dangled its feet lazily in the air just to the side of the branch, and swung back and forth. "Don't _talk_ like that, sis!!" it hissed fearfully. "No one formed and born in these woods can leave! Don't tell me you've got an itching to see the Outside!!"

"Well, no, it's just—"

"Foreget it, sis!" the Skullkid interrupted, making a horizontal slicing motion in the air with its right hand. "I can't, you can't...I bet the fairy can't, either! What's made in these woods stays in these woods!" It shook its head, almost sympathetically. "Sorry, sis, but it's true. If you stick around, maybe I can show you some new places in the Forest tomorrow...places none of you have ever seen before. I can show you real adventure! Please...don't even _talk_ about leaving!"

Saria sighed. She wanted to tell it about the pups, but found she couldn't bring herself to do it. Its stern refusal to consider leaving the Kokiri Forest reminded her that the Skullkid had once been a Kokiri like her. And, she realized, it probably still held onto some of its old Kokiri memories, like the many uses of Deku sticks, or how to make the perfect slingshot—a true Kokiri art—or even how dangerous the beasts in the Lost Woods _really _were. She couldn't help wondering how it would react if she told it she was protecting and raising three Wolfos pups behind the others' backs.

"I...understand," she replied at length. "Sorry, Skullkid. You're right. It was a stupid idea. Maybe I will take you up on that offer, though. Sometimes the Forest can get a little boring." It hurt her to have to lie...again. Especially to someone so jovial and happy as the Skullkid swinging beside her. "I'm...going to head back home now. It's late, and the Lost Woods are dangerous for Kokiri at night."

The Skullkid's starry eyes narrowed and burned with painful regret. Saria hated herself at that moment. She had just reminded it of the terrifying and probably painful changes that had taken place to its small body years before. With another quiet sigh, she slid down from the branch, feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. She looked up to see the branches rustle. Soft, eerie music whistled out from between the leaves, its melody weaving in seamlessly with the monotone crickets and chorusing frogs. The sound made Saria's heart throb painfully as she bolted back to the little den where her three adopted children lay.

When she reached the small cave, the child was again struck by how helpless the pups looked. They barely moved now, with Penata moving the least of all. She lifted the three of them into her arms and murmured soothingly to them. Hot tears spilled onto the soft, fluffy pelts, matting them slick in small, scattered spots. Despite the fact that she had just awoken, the girl was not opposed to sleep, and she did so with the cubs to her heart.

* * *

Link curled himself into a tighter ball on his bed, tugging the soft, white sheets over his head as far as they would come. His fist tightened, then loosened, around a twisted Deku stick he had picked up earlier that day. After the kickball game had ended, Jano had spotted him atop the bridge and offered to go on a walk through the creek with him. The two had gleefully taken off their boots and splashed through the water in search of crawfish and minnows. Jano had come away with a handful of colorful feathers, and Link had picked up the strangely-shaped stick he had taken to bed with him.

A smile crossed the sleeping boy's face as he dreamed of a wonderful afternoon where everyone wanted to play with him...because he had a _fairy_ now!! The fairy was circling his body in swift, sparkling loops, calling his name out again and again in a beautiful voice. He caught its furry body in his hands—his body in the waking world releasing the stick to do so—and pressed it to his face. He had never actually felt a fairy before (to touch another Kokiri's fairy was forbidden, simply because the fairy was that Kokiri's special and dearest friend), but somehow he could feel the soft, sparking fur that tickled with magic as if he had held a fairy every day of his life. He was the envy of all his friends in his best dreams.

The reality of the waking world did not taint his dreams, nor bring him out of them. Link stayed fast asleep; even as the dropped stick rolled across the floor and knocked into a stack of loosely-piled games, which wobbled and knocked into a shelf, the jostling of which dislodged a glass vase full of Deku seeds, which toppled to the floor to shatter noisily, he did not wake up. The seeds scattered and rolled across the floor. While it would likely provide a rather rude awakening for him the next morning, it failed to awaken him as he slept now. Link sighed happily and rolled onto his side, away from the chaos he had caused in his dreams. He couldn't have cared less. He had a fairy, even if it was only for the night. **(1)**

The first few rays of the morning sun slanted in weakly over the Kokiri Forest. The early light pooled over the ground before the cave, then flicked up to illuminate the interior. The small, hunched form of a child could be seen, her arms full of furry bundles. There were stains on her cheeks, suggesting that she had cried through the night, even in her sleep. Her nose was pressed against the fur of the smallest bundle. The smallest of breezes ruffled the fluffy pelt, and the stirring against her freckled nose woke the girl. She blinked open her dark eyes hesitantly, as if unwilling to acknowledge that she was now awake.

Iamb struggled feebly in Saria's lap, his clumsy, thick paws pattering against her leg. Bicca whined quietly. Both cub's stomachs were beyond flat. They were sunken in now, their thinning puppy fat pulled back over their ribs painfully. Saria sighed brokenly, listlessly stirring her fingers through their fur. She brushed her fingertips lightly over Bicca, then to Iamb, then to Penata. Her hand froze on the final pup.

Penata's soft skin was like ice: cold, hard, unfeeling. The pup's nose was dry and cracked. Her legs were bent at stiff angles that resisted movement. Her jaw had fallen open the tiniest of degrees, revealing a few white milk teeth that would never give way to adult fangs, a tiny pink tongue that would never taste the blood of her first kill. The poking ribs that lined the sides of her chest did not expand or contract with the rhythm of breath. No little pulsing of skin and fur marked the beating of her young heart. The weakest link of the chain had finally broken. Penata, the runt of the litter, was dead.

Saria's heart shattered in that one instant. She held Penata's stiff body in her hands, bringing the cub close to her face to investigate with disbelieving eyes. She pressed the little chest to her ear to hear a nonexistent heartbeat. Her eyes filled with tears as she let out a broken sob and cradled the body to her chest. "Penata...no," she choked out with great difficulty. "No...you can't...Don't...You're not..." All words abandoned her, and she rocked back and forth while cuddling the dead pup. Fael was silent as she rested on the child's shoulder. Though she knew it was inevitable Saria's beloved runt would not survive for long, she had not said so for fear of upsetting the girl. Now it had all come to pass, and the true depth of the situation had been revealed in one cruel, swift act. Something had to be done, or the other pups would not survive much longer than poor Penata.

"Fael, please, look at her for me," Saria sobbed, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. "You can see things I can't. She's not really...d...d...deh-dead...is she?" The child held the cold-bodied cub up to the fairy for closer examination. Fael sighed as she rested her body on Penata's flat belly. Her body cast a warm, rosy glow over the gray-brown fur, and tiny sparkles from her wings settled on the unmoving Wolfos's body. Saria watched hopefully, though behind her hope lay the terrible knowledge that Fael would give her no good news.

"Saria, I'm sorry...She's..." Fael dropped off at the sudden change in expression on the Kokiri girl's face. The tears falling from Saria's eyes were hot, burning with determination as she slowly settled the remaining cubs down in their nest again. Her arms held Penata's little body close to her heart as she stepped out of the cave.

"She is," Saria whispered fiercely. "But her brothers _won't_ be!"

She settled the dead Wolfos pup down beneath some ferns and strode resolutely towards the ladder leading up to the bridge. Fael followed nervously, her body glowing a faint and worried yellow. Saria pulled herself up onto the bridge and started towards the long tunnel. On the Outside, she could see the crate of milk lying right where the lean Outsider had left it. Her steps were firm and headed straight for the crate of milk. The child was two steps away from the end of the tunnel when Fael zipped up in front of her face, effectively stopping her by startling her flat on her rump.

"Saria, would it honestly kill you to _think_ before you go doing something as stupid as this?" the fairy demanded, the hair on her body bristled out straight and sharp. She glowed a dangerous red that struck a chill of fear in Saria's heart. The girl stared, openmouthed, at the outraged fairy. "I mean, it's not just common rumors we're dealing with! Even the Skullkid said you'd die if you went out there—and you know how little contact they have with Kokiri unless they venture into the Lost Woods!! It's not a rumor, it's a _fact!_ And if you think I'm going to stand by and watch you kill yourself, then THINK AGAIN!!"

Saria pushed herself up nervously, brushing off her bottom as she rose shakily. Her eyes were bright with pain and fear, pain of heart and fear of friend. She bit her lip and gathered the trembling fairy into her hands lovingly. Fael was shaking hard, sobbing quietly. Saria whispered soothingly to her friend, rubbing her nose in the fairy's soft fur to calm herself at the same time. They stood at the brink of certain life and uncertain death, drawing what little comfort they could from each other. The Forest had become a dark place for the two of them, full of dangers and untrustworthy creatures, lies and coverup stories, excuses and abandonment, starvation and fear and death.

The Kokiri was the first to look up. Her eyes centered on the milk crate, so temptingly close. If it wasn't so heavy, she could have pushed and maneuvered it inside with a stick. It looked to be perhaps ten steps outside the Forest's boundaries. _Temptingly_ close. Saria gulped. She had to wonder if she really _would_ die if she set foot outside her home. How would it happen: fast or slow? painful or easy?

"Just one step," she muttered, tossing Fael lightly into the air. The fairy began to protest, but Saria hardly heard her. She walked the last two steps to the end of the tunnel with harsh certainty, her footsteps echoing throughout the hollow log. She faltered at the edge of the Forest, one hand grasping the side of the log tunnel for support. Her heart pounded ice through her veins, roaring in her ears like a flooded stream. She ground her teeth and lifted her right foot. It hovered in the air, then slowly settled down on the soft grass on the Outside.

Nothing happened.

Saria gasped, staring in awe at the foot that was clearly no longer inside the Kokiri Forest. She tapped her toes, wiggled them inside her boot, even lifted her foot and stomped it down a few times to make sure it was real. She was...Outside!! And she was still alive! Laughter, pure and genuine, bubbled out of her in an unstoppable torrent. The Kokiri _could_ leave the Forest after all! Yes, it was without a doubt safer for them within, but the Outside was just as habitable. Grinning up at Fael, Saria took her hand away from the side of the log tunnel and took a skipping, bounding leap forwards. She landed on both feet in front of the forgotten milk crate, opened her mouth to laugh again, and burst out with a terrible, high-pitched scream of pure agony.

Fire raced through her veins with every frenzied beat of her terrified heart. Her arms began to burn and crawl as though fiery caterpillars had taken up residency beneath her skin. Cramps, sharp and tearing, ripped through her chest and belly. Her ragged breathing and racing heart blasted her ears, and within a fraction of a second, her head was throbbing horribly. Needling pains prickled up and down her legs as she screamed at the top of her lungs. Her teeth ached with each scream the pain tore out of her lungs. And, perhaps worst of all, every joint and muscle in her young body locked up tightly, freezing her into place. In a brief flash, Saria realized that she was trapped outside the Forest, unable to flee back to the safety of the trees to escape pain like she had never felt before. Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks as she sobbed breathlessly.

Fael hummed to her side, rubbing against her agonized body in a useless attempt to soothe and relax the tight muscles that held Saria prisoner to the Outside. The child was stiff-bodied and wracked with torturous pains. She could not escape the deadly grip of the world beyond her Forest home. She was trapped, no longer on the line between life and death, but right in the heart of death itself.

"Ho-hoot! I never thought I'd see one of the Forest children outside!"

Saria's eyes, which had glazed over as she tried to escape the excruciating pain by imagining herself elsewhere, snapped up to focus on the stout, gruff-looking owl perched on a tree limb above her. Her lungs lost all air, cutting off the shrill screams she had been releasing. She stared at the owl in awe. The bird twisted its head first to one side, then the other, and ruffled its brown feathers. "Hoo-hoot!" it whooped. "Never, indeed! I'd always heard that your kind would die if they stepped out into the rest of Hyrule. Learn something new every day, it would seem!" This seemed to amuse it, and it let out a cooing chuckle.

_Died...? I'm dying,_ Saria thought foggily. She gazed up at the owl, her mind slowly fumbling to make the connection it knew was possible. Owl—wings—Forest—died—Outside—inside—wings—owl—wings—Inside!! With a burst of insight, the Kokiri realized what she had to do.

"Please," she gasped. "Friend! I...need help. Please...Push me back...into the...Forest..." Her voice grew fainter and more hesitant with each word, and she barely heard Fael as the fairy explained her words in much richer detail.

The pain was starting to fade away as Saria lost all feeling in her arms and legs. She shifted her eyes up to the pale blue sky, marveling at just how blue it was. She wanted to reach up and grab one of the light, buttery-yellow clouds floating there, but she had nothing to reach for it with. Her arms...Did she ever _have_ them to begin with? There was nothing attached to her body, nothing she could feel. The ripping cramps in her abdomen were starting to lose their jagged edges, fading into one soothing blur. Breathing wasn't so hard anymore. The sky was certainly a lovely shade of blue this morning...Would it ever look so perfect again? Would the clouds ever fade so perfectly into the skies? Her vision grew blurry as her eyes started to mist over. The child swayed on her feet. Breathing was so troublesome...You always had to remember to do it. How easy it was to just forget about it altogeth—

A sharp pain hammering into her back brought the girl out of her daze, tearing a yelp of "Haaaah!!" out of her. The cry escaped, and Saria drew in her first true breath of air in the past few minutes. Almost at once, her arms and legs began to ache in dull, throbbing waves. She let her head fall back to rest against the earthy floor of...the...log...tunnel...

In one swift shove, the child was sitting upright with Fael whirring around her head anxiously. She rubbed at her eyes and came away with a slick, filmy substance on the back of her hands. Her chest rose and fell in quick, fearful pants. Every ache was a blessing and a beloved joy to her now. She found that no tears would fall, but did not care. Her eyes found the owl, which was sitting on the ground outside the tunnel. It cocked its head from side to side, ruffled its feathers, and hooted. "It seems the rumors are true. I'm sorry I can't be of more assistance to you, for my wings are useless when it comes to pushing things like the crate." Saria nodded shakily. "It seems to me that in order for you to get this milk, you would need to find someone from outside willing to help you push it in...Unless of course, there's already someone from the Outside inside." It did the head-cock and feather-fluff, and shrugged. "But that does not seem possible. I wish you luck, little Saria. Ho-hoot!"

Saria lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the small cloud of dust and grass pollen the mighty wings of the brown owl stirred up. Her clothing rippled around her with each stroke of its wings. When the owl was gone, she slid back into a lying position on the floor of the hollow log and sighed. "Fael, it's impossible," she groaned. "I'm never going to get that milk!" Fael drifted down and nestled herself up on the girl's small chest, glowing comfortingly.

"Don't worry, Saria," she said bracingly. "You tried your best. You were willing to put your life on the line for another's—the Goddesses won't forget that. I'm sure they'll find a way to get you everything you need to keep the two pups alive. Maybe it's time to put this in their hands and let them work it out."

The Kokiri child nodded quietly, draping a hand loosely over her fairy friend's body. She lay there in silence, stroking Fael and thinking hard. It had been incredibly fortunate for her that the owl had showed up when it had. She was grateful for the gust from his wings that had sent her flying back into the Forest, away from the numb death that had been creeping over her body. Without it...her fate would have been sealed, along with Iamb and Bicca's. She contemplated the owl, repeating its words endlessly to herself. Something in them sounded important to her, as if once again the answer to her problems lay in someone else's casual words to her. Her eyes snapped open, not with inspiration, but with total surprise. "Fael," she whispered, "did you tell the owl my name?"

Fael sounded startled. "No...why?"

"Because right before it left, it called me by name," she rasped. "It said, 'I wish you luck, _little Saria_."

"How...how would it know your name?" Fael asked. "I've never seen it around here before. Come to think of it, I've never seen an owl that big, or one that could talk, either." She shivered. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Saria replied. She started to push herself up slowly, cupping Fael to her heart with one hand. "There's an answer to all this somewhere, I'll bet. All we have to do is find out where."

**Okay, so I did decide to split it. This is the longest chapter I've done for this story so far, and I figured it needed to be cut off now. Because if I didn't, this would likely go on for another...six or so pages? Probably, yeah. Well, point is, this is most of it.**

**(1) I was going to have all that crashing wake him up, but I decided against it. I've been a little mean to him in this story (so much bad stuff happens to the poor little guy in this story so far! D:). I figured I should give him some happy time.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Ri2:**** No, Penata starved to death. Come to think of it, the cause behind her death really wasn't gone into thoroughly, so it's good that you pointed it out. Thanks!**

**To All Those Who Have Favorited/Alerted This Story:**** Thanks so much for the fave/alert! I'm glad you like my story. I'd like to ask you something. You don't have to do this, but I would love it if you dropped me a review telling me why you liked my story, what you didn't like about it, anything like that. I really want to know why you like it, not just that you do. Thanks!**

Link sat up, pushing the covers off of himself. He stretched up his arms, grunting softly under his breath and grinning. His fingers wiggled happily at the ends of his hands. Relaxing the stretch, the little boy turned over and rested his elbows on his windowsill. His eyes narrowed to ward off the slanting beams of yellow sunlight. The Forest below him was green and warm, full of life and energy for the new day.

Today was going to be a good day. He could feel it. Something, some gut feeling, told him today would be _his_ day. Someone was going to want him today. He was going to feel needed. Finally, he wouldn't just be the misfit who everyone ignored, but sometimes played with to keep themselves feeling good. The strength of the feelings surprised him, and the child rolled away from the window, eager to start his good day off as soon as he could.

Grinning widely, Link hopped out of bed. His bare feet landed on a small pile of Deku seeds—miraculously missing the broken glass by fractions of an inch—and proceeded to fly out from under him. He landed hard on his rear with a loud grunt, catching himself with his hands behind him. Unfortunately, his hands struck another pile of seeds, and those rolled out from under him as well. The child fell flat on his back with another grunt. He lay there, panting with surprise, wondering how he had managed to fall so fast. Wasn't today his good day?

Hesitantly, Link pushed himself back up again for another try. He stood up slowly, chin lifted with proud determination, hands on his hips. With a purposeful stride, he set out to start again. His foot struck more seeds, which scattered across the floor and sent him back down again. The boy narrowed his eyes and jumped up. His next step sent him sprawling onto his belly. Only then did he noticed his predicament.

Deku seeds practically covered his floor, mingled in some places with shards of the broken vase that had held them. One such shard lay a hair away from his nose, its cut edge gleaming dangerously in the morning sunlight. Link grimaced in fear and reached out to turn the glass carefully away from his face. _I must look like a real loser right now,_ he thought, suddenly glad that Mido's house was on the other side of the village. _A real loser. I mean, it took me three falls to realize my floor was covered...in...Deku...seeds..._The sheer stupidity of his actions struck him as incredibly funny, and before long, the boy was howling with laughter. If only he had a fairy to see him now! The poor creature would be beside herself with worry for him! That, or she would be laughing her wings off with him.

"Oh! Oh! How stupid do you have to be to fall _three times?_" Link cried, pushing himself on shaking arms. He snickered quietly. "Seriously, I gotta clean all this stuff up before I...do it all over again!!" The thought of falling over the seeds another time sent him into fresh gales of giggles. Still laughing, the boy pick up the broom that was leaning up against the wall of his treehouse (for a young boy, he was surprisingly tidy and organized) and started sweeping the spilled seeds up. He smiled and shook his head slowly as he worked. "I hope Saria's having fun in the Lost Woods. Maybe I'll try and visit her today." He looked up at the air above his pointed ear. "We'll go after breakfast, fairy. And once I'm done cleaning up...all my seeds." He hoped he would be able to find Saria's special place on his own. Judging by the way the Kokiri girl had been acting before she left, she could probably use a laugh or two, and the story about slipping and sliding around on piles of Deku seeds would be just the thing.

* * *

"Keep thinking, Fael! I know there has to be an answer somewhere!" Saria encouraged as she dipped her fingers back into the bottle of water. She lifted them out and quickly offered them to Iamb to suckle before too much of the water rolled off. Fael looped backwards in the air, snapping her wings together in frustration.

"What do you think I've been doing this whole time?" the fairy demanded. She wove from side to side aimlessly, then came to rest on a small branch outside the cave. "Saria, answers don't grow on trees...Besides, I don't have the first idea of where to start thinking!" She sounded hopeless, and Saria offered her a gentle smile.

"The owl said that the only way we could get the milk was either to have someone from the Outside push it in for us, or to have someone from the Outside already inside the Kokiri Forest," she replied patiently. "I know that there has to be someone who is either of those things."

Fael sighed. "Do you plan on waiting at the end of the tunnel and calling out, 'Hey, do you think you could help me push this crate of milk into the Forest?' to anyone who walks past?" she asked, her light voice heavy with sarcasm. Saria sighed.

"It sounds stupid, I know, but I think that's how it's going to work out in the end." The girl shrugged. "Who knows...maybe the Outsider who dropped the crate in the first place will be willing to let me have the milk if he sees how hungry these pups are."

Fael groaned. "Not good, not good, _not_ good," she muttered, her pink body rolling from side to side on the branch. "Saria, you're forgetting something important: To be seen by any of the Outsiders is _Forbidden!_ The Great Deku Tree will have you weeding until your hands fall off if you do it and he finds out! Forget about the Outsiders, Saria. They're dark, foreign, and Forbidden!"

"So are these pups," Saria whispered, stroking under Iamb's chin. His stubby tail thumped in her lap as his paws reached up towards the loving touch. "But that hasn't kept me away from them." Iamb and his brother had stopped growing when their milk supply had been cruelly and accidentally cut off, but not before reaching two impressive sizes. Saria estimated the older cub weighed somewhere in the realm of nine or ten pounds, while his brother was just a bit shy of that. "Maybe you're right about the Outsiders. Maybe that's not the answer." She looked up at the fairy. "But if _that_ isn't...then what _is_?"

Fael made a small sound as if preparing to speak, but no words came from her. Instead, she snuggled up against the Kokiri's cheek and sighed. Saria smiled and leaned her head closer to the warm fairy, glad to have the companionship that she did.

Earlier that day, after recovering from her experience outside the Forest, the girl had taken Penata's stiff, lifeless body for burial. The Wolfos pup now lay beneath a small mound of dirt at the base of a sapling not far from the cave. Saria had placed a smooth, flat, gray stone at the head of the grave and had carved a small, rough sketch of a running Wolfos on the stone to mark the place. A few wildflowers, bright and beautiful, rested atop the mound, practically glowing with life in the warm sunlight. The bulbs of some crocuses were pressed into the upturned dirt, to bloom and live again next spring. To Saria, it seemed a fitting way to remember the pup who would never see the beauty of the Forest she was born in: by surrounding her with it.

The sun had slipped past its noon mark by the time Link had truly set out into the Lost Woods. He had packed a small, over-the-shoulder duffel bag carefully with a bottle of water, a few pieces of dried fruit, a compass he didn't know how to work but liked to look at (Fado had found it for him one day; she said it was probably dropped by an Outsider who was now a Stalfos), and his slingshot. Pouches on his belt held ammo for said slingshot (mostly Deku seeds he had picked up from his floor) and some Deku nuts—his hand rested on the pouch containing the latter to keep them from jostling around too much and subsequently exploding. Sheathed across his back like a sword was the twisted stick he had found the previous day. As the boy stepped through the green curtain at the entrance to the Lost Woods, he pulled out the stick and held it in his left hand, imaging it to be a fearsome and magical sword that would destroy anything evil that crossed his path.

Overhead, what could be seen of the sky through the thick trees was bright cerulean blue, dotted with thick, white, fluffy clouds. A light wind stirred the trees' limbs, crashing the thick, green foliage that coated them together almost musically. Cicadas droned a monotone call from their hidden perches in the upper branches. Sunlight, bright and gorgeous, dappled the ground before the little boy, its patterns of dark and light ever-shifting with the breezes. Link grinned, studying each of the three tunnels that led off into darkness. Two of the three would lead him deeper into the Lost Woods; the third would somehow lead him right back to the Kokiri village. With a confident nod, he set off through the hollow log directly in front of him, swiping at the grass with his stick as he went.

One hour, three pieces of fruit, and seventeen trips back to the entrance back into the Kokiri Forest later, Link found himself sitting on a smooth, flat rock _somewhere_ in the middle of the Lost Woods. He paddled his feet in the shallow pool tucked away in the corner of the clearing, leaning over to try and see down into what looked like an underwater tunnel. Bright minnows flashed in the sunlight, quick flickers of silver amid the sparkling water. The boy sighed, smiling despite himself as the tiny fish nibbled at his toes. "I don't think I'm ever gonna find her spot by myself," he muttered. "This place is way too confusing...I'll be a Skullkid before long." The thought made him shiver despite the warm day. His cerulean eyes flicked left and right warily. He frowned and pushed himself up, reaching for his boots as he went. "Fado said Saria said she would only be here for a few days...I can probably wait."

After he had gathtered up all of his possessions and pulled his boots back on, the boy without a fairy started back towards the entrance to the Lost Woods.

Iamb and Bicca lay side by side in their nest. Neither had much energy to move now. Their pelts were still the same blissful, fluffy softness, but they were dull and looked as though they were stretched thin over their skeletons. Knob of bone protruded painfully along their spines and limbs, and their curved ribs stretched apart and pulled together with each snuffling breath. They were gaunt and listless, mere shadows of what they should have been. Their squinting eyelids were frosted with a white, sticky mucus. Their tiny chests rose and fell in the shadow of the cave. With a quite whine, Bicca pressed himself up against his brother for attention and company in the semidarkness.

They only vaguely remembered the third one, the female that had always been the recipient of the mother's full attention. Her scent was still firmly locked into the fibers of the nest-blanket, but the memories it evoked were fading fast. Iamb could smell the female, and was able to understand that her scent was similar enough to his own that they were related, but he could not think of anything more than that. She was not the mother, for the mother smelled of rain and trees, not Wolfos-musk. Bicca smelled the female as well, and he knew that she had been beside him not long ago. He could not understand where she had gone, though, or why she had left the security of the nest. Had the mother taken her away for more lavish affection? How long had it been since her bumpy, thin body had pressed against his? He could not say for sure.

As Bicca snuggled closer, Iamb drew back, a little annoyed by his younger sibling's attention-seeking. The larger pup snorted, stretching his jaw open in a soft grumble of displeasure. Bicca whimpered again and settled down in the warm patch Iamb had moved back from. Iamb sighed and settled back down, draping his body partway over his younger brother's. He gave up, under the reasoning that it was better to starve together than suffer alone. As he relaxed, the younger pup snuggled up closer, his bony spine knocking uncomfortably against his brother's ribs. Grunting and shifting ensued as both cubs struggled to get comfortable in a nest full of prodding bones and weak littermates. They settled down again in a positioning almost identical to the one they had started out in, with Bicca's back curving into Iamb's underbelly. Too tired to readjust themselves, the two of them relaxed and tried falling back into their dark, hungry sleep.

* * *

Saria sat on the ledge above the den, studying the shadows beneath her feet intently as she thought. Her eyes were shadowed, lids narrowed pensively. She was scratching idly at the dirt beneath her hand with a crooked finger, her tidy nail digging a small furrow as it twitched. The answer was in the Forest somewhere, she decided. There was no other way. The solution to her problems did not lie in the Forbidden Outside, _could not_ lie in the Forbidden Outside. The owl's words ran through her mind on an endless loop: _It seems to me that in order for you to get this milk, you would need to find someone from outside willing to help you push it in...Unless, of course, there's already someone from the Outside inside._

"Someone from the Outside inside," she murmured aloud, frowning as she spoke the words. "What about a Stalfos? They were once Outsiders, until the spirits in these Woods caused them to lose their way and join the darkness." She shook her head. "But the owl's right if that's the case: Stalfoses are dangerous, and you can't trust them with anything—you can't even trust them to leave your head on your shoulders when you talk to them!" The girl sighed. "It can't be hopeless! THE ANSWER'S HERE SOMEWHERE!!"

_HERE SOMEWHERE!! HERE SOMEWhere!! HERE Somewhere!! Here somewhere!_

The last sentence was shouted rather than spoken, and Saria found herself on her feet with clenched fists as the echoes died away. The ferocity of the rebounding words startled her. The Kokiri girl was not known for being particularly loud, which was part of why she had gone through a small personal exile to hide the stress of caring for the Wolfos litter. She stood there, panting, suddenly brimming with burning determination. Her eyes were alight with a wild fire. She turned to Fael, hovering by her ear, opened her mouth to say she was through moping—

—and was promptly interrupted by a wary, quiet call of, "Saria...? Are you there?...W-was that you?"

* * *

Link had been a few steps from leaving the Lost Woods when the furious scream had ripped through the air around him. His head had snapped to the right, staring down the one path he had not bothered to explore, the path he knew would not lead him to Saria. That tunnel would lead him to a separate clearing in the Lost Woods, which would branch off again, stopping at the glade that held the bridge that led out into the Outside. It was the only dead-end that did not lead back to the village. The boy hadn't bothered to check it out the whole time he had been there, but now he was beginning to wonder if that should have been his first stop.

He was hesitant to make his way too close, however. The cry that had attracted his attention sounded uncharacteristically angry and loud for Saria, even though it was undeniably her voice. Link wasn't sure he would be greeted warmly if he decided to make an appearance now, but the hopelessness beneath her anger drew him in closer, and he stepped through the first of the two tunnels. The echoes were still ringing through the trees as he darted through the clearing. Birds were taking flight overhead, twittering amongst themselves as if gossiping about their fright. Link stepped up to the entrance of the second tunnel and gave a soft greeting to announce himself.

"Saria?" he called quietly, his eyes wide. "Are you there?" He waited what seemed a reasonable amount of time, then spoke again. "W-was that you?" He was unable to keep the small stutter out of the phrase. It felt as though his heart was hammering against his lungs, forcing his air out in quivery pants. His legs felt like water. He waited for a response.

Saria dropped her fists and jaw in one swift movement. Still turned to Fael, she whispered, "Link...That's the answer." A grin crept stealthily across her round face. "Fael, don't you remember...when he was still a baby?"

"What?"

"I asked the Great Deku Tree what his name would be," Saria continued. She began pacing back and forth, her hands alternately clenching and relaxing as she walked. Her eyes were bright with realization and hope. "I kept asking and asking, saying I wouldn't take care of him if he didn't have a name I could call him by. I must have pestered the poor Deku Tree for hours before he finally decided...Do you remember what he said?" The girl stopped pacing and turned to face her fairy friend. Fael hummed closer and rubbed against the Kokiri's cheek lovingly.

"I remember," she replied. Adopting the creaky, deep voice of the beloved old Tree, she said, " 'His name will be Link...for he is the one link between the Kokiri Forest and the world Outside.' " Saria laughed and snatched Fael out of the air, squeezing the pink-furred fairy close to her chest as she spun around on one foot.

"Don't you see, Fael? Link can get the milk for us! He can leave the Forest and go to the Outside because he's _from_ the Outside!!" The child spun to a stop, wobbling dizzily on her feet as she released the equally loopy Fael. They were both giggling happily, and in a flash, Saria was running for the log tunnel that separated her from the young Hylian boy.

She paused at her end of the tunnel to gather herself together, smoothing out the wrinkles and brushing the dirt from her clothes. Link was waiting, leaning his upper body into the hollow log hesitantly. At the sight of his friend's wide grin, he relaxed and stepped through. "Saria, I came in looking for you," he explained. "I was just about to leave, 'cause I know I'm not supposed to go back here alone 'cause I might get lost, but I heard you yelling. I went to look for you, but you sounded angry...I'll leave if you're still mad."

If he was expecting a stern talking-to, the boy had another thing coming, Saria thought with a smile. She shook her head and held the younger boy's hand as she led him into the small clearing. "Link, I have a question for you," she began. "Have you ever thought about leaving the Kokiri Forest?"

Link pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around his little body. His blue eyes were wide as he shook his head rapidly from side to side. "Nuh-uh! No way!" he protested firmly. "Never! I—We _die_ if we leave, don't we?"

Saria hated herself for having to lie to the boy, but she told herself it wasn't really lying. Link was not really a Kokiri. He was an Outsider who had been raised as one of them. "Well, that's partially true," she told him. "You see, some Kokiri are stronger than others, so some of us actually _can_ leave the Forest safely for a short amount of time." She led him towards the small ladder as she spoke. "And if you ask me, I think you're one of the stronger ones. There's something Outside that I want, but I'm not strong enough to leave and get it. Do you think you can help me?"

Link was silent for a few moments. The fear had vanished fom his eyes, to be replaced with careful consideration and eagerness to try the impossible. He looked at Saria as if sizing her up, then frowned thoughtfully. Saria waited on edge, but patiently so, trying her hardest not to glance in the pups' direction. Their lives depended on the boy's response. If he denied Saria's claims that he could safely leave the Forest, they would only starve to death. If he accepted the challenge she had laid before him, the pups would live. The silence stretched for what felt like hours until Link looked back up at his friend. His eyes were clear and bright as he nodded.

"I'll see if I can," he replied. Saria sighed with relief as she started up the ladder. Link followed behind her.

The two children stood at the edge of the Forest, gazing at the Forbidden world that stretched out before them with awe and excitement. The sun made the yellow-ticked grass of the field glow with warmth as it rippled in the light breeze. The shadow of some strange, mysterious _something_ loomed in the distance from its perch atop a sloping hill. Faraway, the tinkling of a clear stream could be heard, and even softer was the purring of a distant waterfall. The abandoned milk crate sat in the sun, so temptingly close. Saria shuddered a little, remembering how that _tempting_ closeness had nearly gotten her killed.

For a moment, she was hesitant to let Link leave. What if he really _was_ a Kokiri, and the Deku Tree only _thought_ he was an Outsider? If that was true, then she was condemning him to die alone while she watched helplessly from the safety of the Forest. A slap of rationality drive the thought from her mind. No, she had _seen_ his Outsider mother die. She had seen him come into the Forest from the Outside. She was only allowing him to step back outside into the world he had been born into. The girl laid a hand on her friend's shoulder. "I need you to push the crate of milk into the Forest. Do you think you can do it, Link?" she asked. Link grinned, a little uneasily, and nodded.

Saria leaned back against the wall and held her breath. Link studied the grass of the Outside, so coarse and rough-looking compared to the soft grass that lay within the Kokiri's trees. He gripped the rim of the log and placed a foot outside, just as Saria had done. He let out an explosive sigh of relief as he realized there was no instant death. With a glance over his shoulder, the boy lifted his other boot and took another step Outside. The second step led to a third, then a fourth, then a fifth...Saria watched in total amazement as the boy who she had always thought of as being another one of the Kokiri tribe did what no real Kokiri could have done. Link stopped at the crate, turned back, and laughed. "This is great!!" he cried happily. "Look, Saria! I'm Outside! Outside!!" His eyes were sparkling with the thrill of it all as he danced from side to side. "I really _am_ strong! Hah—I'd love to see Mido do this!! I bet he'd pee himself, he'd be so scared!"

Saria found herself laughing along with the child, sharing at least some small part of his joy. _Mido probably would pee himself, _she realized,_ but all it would take would be for him to see Link standing out there._ Wiping her eyes, she said, "That's great. Now, do you think you can push that crate back inside the Forest?" She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Link grinned and flexed imaginary muscles. With a soft grunt, the boy crouched down behind the crate and laid his shoulder against it, pushing with everything he had in his small body. The wooden box scraped across the ground, inching along slowly, its precious cargo rattling musically within. Saria watched in amazement as the crate drew closer and closer, until finally she reached out her hands and grabbed the corners closest to her. "I'll help. Keep pushing! You're almost there!" she encouraged. Link strained against the milk crate until it slid to a stop at the end of the log tunnel.

Without a word, the two tired children looked at each other, then pushed the crate over the edge of the bridge. The wooden box shattered as it struck the earth below, exposing more bottles of milk than Saria could count. The girl's eyes grew wide as she realized she would have enough to feed the pups until they could be weaned. She turned to thank her friend, only to see him leaning against the rope rail with his arms folded across his chest. "Why do you need that milk?" he asked. "Fruit not good enough for you anymore? Need stuff from the Outside to make you happy?" There was a playful gleam in his eyes, but it shared space with pure confusion. Saria sighed, knowing that her secret could not be a secret anymore—not after that. She motioned Link to follow her as she headed down to where the pups were sleeping.

"Link, what I'm about to show you can't be talked about," she told him in a no-nonsense voice. "Keep it a secret to everyone." Link nodded, holding out his hand to perform a child's ultimate pact-sealer: the pinky-swear. Saria grinned as she hooked her little finger around his and kissed her thumb. "Now, I want you to know that despite what anyone may tell you, they aren't dangerous. Right now, you could hurt them more than they could hurt you. Are you ready to see my secret?" Link nodded excitedly. The Kokiri girl nodded in response, and slipped into the small cave where Iamb and Bicca slept. She reemerge a few moments later with the two Wolfos pups in her arms. Link gasped—causing Saria to fear for the two's safety for a heartbeat—and held out his arms to hold one of them.

"They look so hungry," he whispered, frowning with concern. Saria nodded sadly as she handed him Bicca. The boy cradled the scrawny cub in his arms like a baby, tickling the soft, narrow muzzle. "Saria, are they yours?"

"Their mother died," Saria explained. "I was there when they were born, so I decided to take care of them in her place...but when Nara died, I didn't have any more milk for them. They had a sister...but...she died, too..." The girl dropped her eyes and pressed Iamb closer to her chest. She was silent for a minute, then snapped her eyes up to meet her friend's. "I can't do it alone. I know this now. Will you help me take care of these pups?"

Link studied Bicca for a few moments, pursing his lips thoughtfully. Bicca reached up to try and suckle his fingers weakly. The boy sighed. "I can't say no," he whispered. "Sure...Tell me what to do, and I'll do it."

Saria sighed with relief. She squatted down to pick up one of the bottles, all of which were miraculously unbroken, and punched a hole in the cap with her teeth. She nodded for Link to do the same. The boy chose another bottle and struggled for a few minutes to pop a hole in the top as easily as she had. The best he could manage was a spray of four or five small pits that were easily broken open by a swift smack with a pointed rock. Saria showed him carefully how to hold to bottle and the pup so that the bottle would not fall and the pup would not choke. It was wonderful to watch the Wolfoses' stomachs slowly fill out again, to see their sucks become more vigorous, to feel the increasing strength in their bony bodies. They had survived yet another threat to their lives, and things could only get easier from here.

Halfway through the silent feeding, Link let out a loud, startled gasp and nearly dropped the bottle. He looked up at Saria, who was feeding the larger of the pups with her eyes closed serenely. "Saria!" he hissed. "Saria, look!! He's looking right at me! He's looking right at me!!"

Saria jolted out of her reverie, her eyes widening and growing soft at the sight of the cub in the boy's arms. She looked from the smaller to the larger, then back again, nodding approvingly. Her eyes flicked up to meet Link's, and the two of them smiled, wrapped up in the beauty of the mystical moment. The two Wolfos pups still suckled at the bottles, unawares of the whispered uproar they were causing.

The eyes of the brothers were open at last.

* * *

"Aww, shucks! That ol' Talon gave me such a grindin', I forgot I'd dropped that li'l crate of milk down here!" Ingo snarled, scratching at his mustache in frustration. The ranch hand's ratty eyes flicked from side to side as he sought out his ill-gotten gain. With his salary, Lon-Lon Milk was hard to come by in the quantities that most people wanted to buy it in. That was why he had taken to dropping a crate, sometimes two, off the back of Talon's milk wagon every few weeks. It was a good way to make some money on the side, he'd found. _I milk them dang cows every day! I deserve at least _some_ of the profit!_ he was fond of saying.

Talon had, in fact, given him a "grindin'" after the incident, when the wagon rolled into the Castle Town Market one crate short. The pudgy man was sure Ingo was to blame, saying that his helper had forgotten one of the crates back at the Ranch. Ingo had gotten several of the lectures of his life in one sitting, but it would all be worth it with the money he could make off of that one crate of milk...

...wherever it was.

Ingo let out a wild yell and leapt into the air, stomping the ground with both feet repeatedly in rage. "The dang thing's gone!!" he howled like a wounded Wolfos. "It was right here, I know it was!! I dropped it off the back _right here!!_ Where'd it go?!" His squinty eyes flicked back and forth, so sure that in the fading twilight he had simply overlooked his treasure. Nothing. Infuriated that he had been raged at for _nothing_, Ingo left, spitting on the ground outside the Forest.

He would have been a lot angrier if he had been able to see the distinct drag marks that led from where he had been standing to the entrance to the Kokiri Forest the only evidence that he had been robbed of his stolen gain.


	7. Chapter 7

Bicca was the first to awaken the next morning. The smaller of the two Wolfos pups opened his eyes slowly and sneezed, relieving the insistent tickle in his nose that had brought him out of his sleep. The sound echoed off the walls of the den, bouncing through his ears noisily, until it faded into silence. On a low tree branch not far from the small cave, a bird started up a bright, twittery song that sent thrills through the young pup's body. What could possibly be making that sweet sound? Could he see it now? Would it be as visible to him as the pudgy paws that rested on the nest in front of his nose? The fluffy cub panted with excitement as he tried enthusiastically to make those chubby paws move him towards the light.

He never reached the entrance to the den by himself, however. The laws of physics helped him out with that part. For as little Bicca wriggled on his belly towards the golden light of the morning, he managed to tangle his hindpaws up in his brother's tail. His excited, jerky motions caused Iamb to wake with a start that sent both pups tumbling into the Forest outside their safe, dark den. They landed in a heap on the ground outside, sprawled, yelping, and wiggling. They managed to unknot themselves, and rolled around to see each other's faces for the first time.

The Hylian Wolfos is color-blind, unable to distinguish red from gray. Therefore, upon seeing Iamb for the first time, Bicca had no idea that his older brother's eyes were a deep, peaceful green. His paw reached out curiously and came to rest on his older brother's muzzle. He let out a confused whine, opening his mouth slightly to receive the strange creature's scent. What hit him was a wave of rich smells that seemed to sing with life. Suddenly he knew that the unfamiliar animal sprawled on its belly before him was male, his own litter-brother, and was just as surprised by this encounter as he himself was. Gazing into those gray eyes, Bicca formed a word that whispered through the soft grass below as he spoke it: _Brother._

_Brother,_ the no-longer strange pup repeated, a glimmer of recognition coming into his eyes. Bicca was overjoyed. He wasn't alone! Clumsily, the two pups rose to their feet, standing with splayed and quivering legs, with claws dug firmly into the moist ground beneath. They sniffed the ground, their paws, each other's faces. Tails, fluffy and short, whisked from side to side as each new scent hit the curious pups. Bicca was in awe of the variety that he could pick up. There were traces of the mother, fresh and rainy—but they were all different! Here was where her warm body had sat and rested for many hours. Here was where she had walked back and forth. Here was where she had fed him—he could smell his own scent there, along with milk and mother. His heart raced with excitement at his discoveries.

The Hylian Wolfos is color-blind, but only in sight. As Bicca soon discovered, the nose of the Wolfos was incredibly powerful. It needed to be so, when packs in the wild could range anywhere from twenty to close to eighty or ninety individuals, each with their own status, rank, and smell. A good sense of smell was needed to distinguish each member. But, as the two young pups now found, their noses were not just good at picking up subtle differences in who was who. Bursts of information greeted them with each sniff, information that could not be gathered with their eyes.

Bicca realized that the grass was green. Iamb noticed that the strong-smelling berries hanging on the bush overhead were dark red. The only reason ether knew this was because of scent. The grass _smelled_—in some bizarre sense of the word—green. The berries _smelled_ red. The two pups could not see color, but they could certainly smell it, and with each scent came a new color. The bird Bicca had heard when he woke up was brown. The small flowers growing behind Iamb were light blue. When the older pup urinated out of excitement, both screwed up their faces at the acrid, yellow odor. Some things, however, had no traceable color-scent. The sky, their eyes, and so on, were simply accepted by the pups as being gray.

Bicca let out a yelp of exhilaration and flung himself at his brother. Iamb barked in surprise, unprepared for this sudden assault, and fell back onto his rump. The two pups roughhoused in a tangle of fat paws, stick-legs, and puppy drool. The brief scuffle ended when Iamb realized that he was larger and could easily hold his younger, smaller brother down. Bicca snapped his tiny, white milk teeth up at his littermate, growling playfully and kicking his short hind legs. It did him no good. Iamb was taking full advantage of the Wolfos's unusual body shape to pin the other cub, while staying out of range of teeth and legs. The soft muscles in his broad, to-be powerful shoulders tensed. The older pup lowered his head and took a playful nip at his brother's ear before shakily bounding away with a short howl. He loped a few uneven steps before falling flat on his face, all four legs flying out from under his body at near-right angles. Bicca gave a few barks of amusement, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. A soft giggle caused both pups to turn.

Two small two-legged creatures were standing nearby. Iamb quickly pulled himself to his feet and brushed Bicca aside as they went to investigate the newcomers. The brothers sat, ears pricked, mouths open, heads cocked curiously. One of the two-legs bent down and held out its pink paws to the two pups. Iamb and Bicca padded forwards tentatively, sniffing hard to register these new animals' scents. At once, they let out twin yowls of joy and loped forwards, flinging themselves at the kneeling two-legs. Iamb shouldered his brother aside, and Bicca accepted the shove passively. He could wait for his chance to greet his mother.

The mother let out a cry of happiness and swept the two Wolfoses into her arms. Iamb and Bicca squirmed in her gentle grasp, each striving to lick her face lovingly as many times as he could. Bicca whined happily, his tail lashing from side to side, his paws reaching for that round face. There was warmth and comfort in the mother's green, rainy smell. The mother laughed and touched her face to the top of his head, then turned to the other two-legs. She made a few sounds, which her companion, a male, judging from his green-gold scent, nodded at. He knelt down beside her and held out his arms. When another nudge from Iamb sent Bicca staggering for balance, the smaller pup decided to investigate the strange two-legs.

* * *

"Saria, look! He's coming to me!!" Link cried happily, lifting Bicca into his lap with all the loving clumsiness of a child. The Wolfos pup wriggled around in his arms, pushing his cold, wet nose up against the boy's cheek. Saria laughed as Bicca gave the youth a number of slurpy licks. "He likes me!"

"Looks like he does," she told him, giggling as Iamb began nosing under her chin. The Wolfos pup's muzzle was lined with a row of short, bristly whiskers that tickled her neck and sent shivers down her spine. She allowed him to bathe her face and throat with his tongue before lifting him up out of her lap to study him carefully.

Gone was the whimpering, lethargic, fur-covered skeleton of a pup, to be replaced by a bold, inquisitive ball of fur. Iamb's pelt was a very uniform shade of dark gray, which lightened going down his flanks until it paled to near-white on his underbelly. His eyes were dark green, without whites or pupils. All of his muzzle was black, and the tint stretched up past his eyes and down his throat before it blended into that dark gray. Though still very young, his body already showed the distinctive shape of the Wolfos. His forelegs were long, and led up to broad, high shoulders. From there, his body sloped downwards to stubby back legs. When they were older and stronger, Iamb and Bicca would be able to support their full weight on their stocky hindlegs while they swung their forepaws to attack. Their torsos would lengthen and become flexible, allowing them to pivot while they struck. Looking at his puppy-fat covered body, Saria could hardly believe that day would ever come. She cradled the larger pup closer to her heart and smiled. Something told her Iamb and Bicca would _always _be her little puppies.

The Kokiri looked over to where Link sat, laughing and wrestling with the playful Bicca. In contrast to his ordinary-looking brother, the younger pup showed the potential to be quite a looker among the females when he grew up. Bicca's pelt was a beautifully variegated mix of brown, black, gray, and white that grew lighter as it neared his gray belly. A black stripe ran from the base of his neck to the root of his tail, which was tipped in black as if it had been dipped into an inkwell. His eyes were a brilliant sunburst of browns and greens that flashed and danced as he tackled Link repeatedly. The areas around his eyes and under his muzzle were just a bit lighter than the rest of his face. The smaller pup starting snuffling around Link's hands curiously, and it was a moment before Saria realized why Iamb was doing the same for her. "I think they're hungry," she said, edging slowly towards the bottles of milk that sat, now neatly lined up, just inside the cubs' cave. She popped a hole in the cap of one and held it up for Iamb to drink from.

Iamb sniffed at the bottle curiously, snorting as a few drops of milk splattered on his black nose. His tongue, a dark russet color, flicked out to lick the drops off. His eyes lit up as he realized that it was the food he was so accustomed to. Greedily straining back his neck, the pup braced his forepaws on Saria's chest to suckle from the bottle she was holding for him. The contents of the bottle vanished quickly, although it could be clearly seen that they had reached their destination: Iamb's belly was filling out with each suck. It took a few minutes for Link to puncture the cap as his friend had, but once he managed to break it open, Bicca hurled himself at the food. He had taken the cue from his older sibling that the bottles held milk, and was eager to try feeding himself.

The older of the Wolfos brothers shoved the empty bottle aside with his nose and tumbled out of the Kokiri girl's lap into the grass below. He staggered upright, snorted, and began pawing curiously at the ground at his feet. There seemed to be another moment of discovery as he found his thick, black claws. Iamb lifted a foot, then set it down, then lifted it again, studying his thick-padded paw intently. Then, flexing his claws to the sky, he bore down and started digging in a furious whirl of nails and flying dirt. Within a matter of minutes, Iamb had managed to dig himself a hole nearly half a foot deep. He crouched down and rested his nose in the dirt, then sneezed violently...only to replace his nose in the hole once more. **(1)** His stubby tail was wagging rapidly from side to side. Saria and Link both burst out laughing at the sight. The Wolfos raised his dirty head curiously, cocking it to the side as his ears swivelled forwards to catch the sound. He sneezed again, spraying the two children with clods of moist earth and drool. This sent them laughing even harder.

Now Bicca went to investigate the hole, trotting heavy-footed over to where his brother crouched. The younger pup let out a questioning bark and tried to put his own paws into the small, rough pit. Iamb let out a mock growl and leapt at his younger brother. They rolled across the ground, snapping and pummeling in the most charming of puppy-fights. Bicca grabbed his brother's tail in his mouth, only to be tickled by its furry tip—causing him to cough and release his hold. Iamb wrapped his forelegs around the other cub's shoulders, bringing him crashing down to the ground. Bicca wormed away and found his littermate's ear. He strained back, digging his tiny heels into the ground as he tugged away, the other pup's ear stretching back with him. Iamb scoffed and stood up, then walked back to Saria with Bicca still dangling from his ear like a strange piece of jewelry. The Wolfos put his paws on the girl's knees and whuffed softly as if to say, _Would you mind getting him off of me?_ Saria laughed as she tickled Bicca's ribs. The small pup released his hold as he yipped in protest.

"I wish we could take them back to the village with us," Link murmured, flopping down on his stomach beside Saria. He reached out and twirled Iamb's tail around in his fingers. Iamb turned to nip, but the boy drew back before the little milk teeth could snap at him. Saria gasped, but not because Link had narrowly avoided a bite.

"How many days have I been out here with them?" she asked fearfully, her fingers digging into the soft soil around her. Link looked up, a flicker of mild surprise crossing his face at his friend's reaction.

"Three days," he replied. "You've still got another day, Saria, so don't worry. Just tell me everything I need to do to make them happy. I'll stay here with them when you go back."

Saria was startled. "How did you know—"

"Oh, Fado told me," the boy told her, brushing the air in a _don't-sweat-it_ gesture. "Nobody will mind if I disappear for a while. I'll take care of them for you, if you want to." He let out a startled yelp not unlike a cry from the playful Wolfos pups as his companion threw her arms around him gratefully.

Noon found the two pups snuggled up together in their den. Iamb lay on his side, paws jerking and muzzle snarling occasionally in his dreams. Bicca was sprawled on his back, one foreleg crooked up in the air, mouth gaping open as he snored. He let out a rather loud, rasping snore and received a smart kick from his still-sleeping brother. The strike jerked him awake for a moment, but he fell right back asleep without moving an inch. From then on—until the nap had ended, at least—his breathing was quieter, as if the minor punishment he had received had thoroughly chastised him.

Outside the small cave, far enough away that their voices would not wake the sleeping Wolfoses, yet close enough that they could still see them, Saria and Link played. The Kokiri girl was racing through the trees as only a child raised in a forest can, her feet bouncing nimbly off of branches that would send her flying to the next limb. Her friend followed behind her, albeit a less gracefully, but just as eager to run and leap. The pair of them laughed as they darted and jumped around. Saria was light and sure-footed as a squirrel; her hands never missed a branch, and her feet always hit the springiest part of the bough. She seemed to pounce on whim and reflexes, with her every action looking like it was second nature to her. Link looked a little heavier, but seemed to have a more instinctual grasp of tree-running. He didn't always make his landing perfectly, but there was always a branch beneath him. He was not nearly as graceful or acrobatic as Saria, but he _was_ as steady on his feet. Fortunately, tree-running was more about _staying _in the trees than looking graceful in them.

Saria came to a stop, her arms wrapping around the trunk of the last tree she had hit. She rested her face against the rough bark for a few moments, panting, feeling tired...but so _alive_. The rustling of bobbing leaves told her Link had stopped as well, and she turned to face him. The boy was leaning back against the trunk of his tree, knees shaking slightly as his body struggled to adjust to the strange state of motion known as "stopping." His eyes were bright with happiness. Saria couldn't help a grin. It felt so good to go tree-running with someone again. Even before she had found the dying, laboring Wolfos, it had been a while since she had done it.

"How're you holding up, Link?" she asked. The boy shrugged.

"I'm hungry, really," he replied. Glancing up at the leaf-mottled sky, he added, "It's almost lunchtime, I think." Saria nodded.

"Come on. Let's go shoot down some fruit. I'm hungry, too." She reached out and took his wrist carefully in her hand, feeling him lock his hand around her wrist as well. He stepped closer to her side, grabbing a nearby branch to support himself as he walked from limb to limb. Together, they gazed down a long, winding tendon of vine that spiraled around the tree they stood on. At Saria's nod, they jumped, landing on their rears on the thick vine. Gravity took hold, and the two now played by physics' rules. Down, down, down...The greens of the leaves blurred together with the brown of the treetrunks as the pair rode the vine like a playground slide. Wild yells tore free from both their throats at the thrill of the ride. Link started laughing. Saria smiled. The vine jittered and shook with their weight, but it held and did not worry them in the least. In fact, it only _added _to the untamed, unrestricted fun, for it felt like their 'slide' would buck them off at any second. "One," Saria counted as the ride neared its end. Link nodded, sobering up a little. "Two...and...GO!"

At that final, shouted word, the two released their grip on each other and flung their arms up. A low-hanging branch stopped their swift flight, and the children wrapped their hands around the limb. They dangled for a few minutes, laughing and cheering and calling for another ride. Then, like ripe fruit, they released their grip on the branch and fell gracelessly to the ground with two soft _thump_s. Sitting up, Link pumped a fist in the air. "Best fun EVER!!" he shouted, startling a few small birds from their perches. Saria laughed as one of the frightened birds dropped a small white package a hair away from the boy's hand. Link looked nervous as he scooted away from the bird droppings, but was soon laughing alongside his friend.

Still giggling, the pair pushed themselves up and joined hands. As they passed the pups' den, Saria cast a quick glance over her shoulder. They were still sleeping, and that gave her the confidence to leave them for a time. She smiled warmly as Bicca's forepaw twitched in his sleep. They were so innocent, she realized, and it was that same innocence that made her glad Link had shown up when he had. Turning back to her friend, she gave him a feisty grin, and the two ran off into the trees together.

**(1) My friend Sara's dog Sadie does this all the time. The story we tell is that Sadie is an alien looking for her buried spaceship. **


	8. Chapter 8

**In the interest of moving the story along without taking up twenty chapters for their puppyhood, I'm going to skip ahead a few months. Keep that in mind as you read. Thanks!**

**By the way, sorry it took so long to update. The end of the school year is coming up for me, and I've been working hard on a number of papers. Hopefully my updates will pick up a little after this. Thanks for being so patient!**

**I seem to be having trouble putting the dividers into this chapter. Sorry if it gets confusing.**

"Iamb! Bicca!" Link called out as he stepped into the small clearing where he and Saria had been raising the two Wolfoses. The boy put his two first fingers to his lips and whistled loudly, just in case his first call had been ignored. He waited patiently, his back against a tree.

A bare minute later, a yip answered him, and the undergrowth across the clearing rustled loudly. Bicca burst out of the brush, his harlequin eyes bright with excitement. He loped across the clearing in big, heavy bounds. His bright pink tongue lolled out of his mouth, flopping comically with each lumbering stride. He reached the child's side in a matter of seconds and plunked his forepaws on his shoulders, whining loudly for attention. Link laughed and gave him a rub behind the ears, then gave the signal for 'down.' The growing pup obeyed after a few quick licks, dropping back onto all fours and rubbing his head against the boy's hip. Bicca was not the best at following orders, but he was certainly learning.

Link gave the whistle again, surprised that Iamb had not been the first to appear. Usually the older brother made the first entrance, often giving his littermate a subtle push to assert his right to greet Saria or Link (whoever it was who had called) first. Though he was not overt about it, it was clear that the laid-back, almost moody Iamb was dominant over his cheerful, easygoing brother. The boy frowned, whistling again after a few minutes' pause. Beside him, Bicca was panting and wiggling with excitement. He shifted from paw to paw, tail waggling swiftly back and forth. Link studied him closely, murmuring, "Is there something that I don't know about?" Bicca's ears pricked up at the sound of his voice, and he grinned up at him.

The boy got his answer a heartbeat later as a rather warm, heavy, furry weight crashed into him from behind, knocking him clean off his feet and sending him tumbling through the warm grass. His rolling was checked as hefty paws pressed down on his shoulders. Hot, moist breath tickled the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine. Then, in a flash of warm tongue, the weight eased off, and the boy sat up to see a very proud-looking Wolfos crouched beside him. Iamb had ignored his multiple calls, not out of mere disobedience, but in order to stalk him down. Dimly, Link realized that Bicca's enthusiastic entrance had been a distraction, to keep his attention away from the prowling Wolfos behind him. It didn't surprise him; in fact, it only made him wonder how to react. Would Saria want him to praise the brothers for their successful cooperation, or scold them for setting their sights on something that was under no circumstances prey? With a shrug, he decided on praise. After all, it had only been in play.

Link and Saria had spent the past few months switching back and forth on who would be the one to spend the days with the pups. At first, it had been a difficult adjustment for the two brothers. Their natural sense of "mother" and "father" were scrambled beyond belief, confusing them to no end. The _mother _always fed the pups, but the _father _brought food, but only for the mother. Since the two friends took turns feeding them, Iamb and Bicca had a brief crisis over which who was their mother and who was their father. In the end, Iamb had decided that Saria must be their mother, because her scent had been all over their den, and she prepared and held their bottles with certainty that Link lacked. And if Iamb had said it, then Bicca was sure to agree with it.

As he scratched behind the two Wolfoses' furry ears, Link frowned to himself. It was certainly not the _first_ time the pups had ganged up on him and brought him to the ground...but it _was _the first time they had done it with such cunning and coordination. Usually Iamb would lumber noisily towards his intended prey, cracking sticks and rustling leaves and giving the boy plenty of warning. Link's hand trembled as Iamb licked, then snapped playfully at it. _They're just pups,_ he told himself. _They're just playing. They don't know how big they're going to get, or how strong they are now. They're not...dangerous._

Feeling a little foolish at his worry, the boy pushed Bicca's paws off his shoulders and pulled two bottles of milk from his bag. Iamb cut ahead of his brother, whining and whisking his tail to and fro happily. Link sunk his teeth into the cap of the first bottle, feeling the satisfying _grink_ as he punctured the thin metal, and held it up. Iamb reared up on his hind paws, his forelegs dangling awkwardly at his sides as he stretched towards the milk. The larger Wolfos sucked down the bottle rapidly, if not a little messily, and yipped for the second. As the child prepared it and held it up again, he wondered when the time would come to wean the cubs. Saria would hear none of it, of course, saying that they would wean themselves if given the time to do so. But, as he stretched his arm over his head to accommodate for Iamb's vertical reach, Link wondered if the time for that had already passed. The older brother, when standing on his hind legs, was as tall as Link himself.

And Bicca was not far behind.

* * *

After their feeding, the Wolfos pups became rowdy and playful. They lunged at the green-boy and growled mock threats. He fended off their pretend attacks and launched a few of his own, but he was outnumbered. Iamb and Bicca were not wonderful mathematicians, but they had a basic grasp of counting, and they knew that two was more than one, and that one often had a hard time defending against two. They used this to their advantage. Bicca, who was far nimbler and quicker than his burly brother, would leap and dodge to either distract or tire out the green-boy. Then Iamb, who was stronger, would made a swift, hefty pass to knock him flat on the ground. After each fall, the green-boy would glance from one pup to the other, the faint smell of fear rising from his green pelt. When Iamb and Bicca started to plead apology with humble whines and crouches, the green-boy would lose all fear-scent and launch attacks of his own, scattering the penitent players.

Bicca wove his body around the green-boy, panting playfully as the child stumbled slightly. He opened his jaws to give a giddy bark of triumph...only to release his breath in a yelp of surprise. The green-boy's paws gripped his ears, tugging them lightly and slowing the rambunctious cub down. Bicca whimpered as he tried to struggle free, but as soon as the green-boy released his ears, those same paws wrapped around his tail. The green-boy was fighting back! How unfair! _Help!_ Bicca yipped, dragging the green-boy behind him as he stumbled away. _Brother help! Help, please!_

Iamb came to his brother's rescue, dropping his heavy paws down on the green-boy's shoulders. Bicca was released from the boy's hold, and he tumbled forwards a few steps before landing on his nose. The green-boy twisted around under Iamb's feet and ruffled the young Wolfos's neck-ruff. Iamb snapped gently at the tousling paws. He appeared to be at a loss at what to do with them both simultaneously, however. When the heavy pup nipped at one paw, the other got up to mischief that needed reprimanding. When _that_ paw was seen to, the _other_ got up to even more mischief! _Green-boy have too many paws,_ he grumbled. _Need more mouths to take care of them all!_ Bicca came up from behind and head-butted the green-boy, pitching him forwards a tail-length **(1)** or so.

Just as the brothers were about to launch another attack, the green-boy let out an angry bark. The cubs stopped in their tracks and looked at each other nervously. If the green-boy told the mother they had gotten too rowdy, there could be big trouble. _Your fault,_ Iamb muttered. _You pushed green-boy last, made him fall. Mother blame you now._

_Didn't mean to!_ Bicca protested, his ears flattening apologetically against the sides of his head. _Green-boy smaller now. Harder to not push over._

They turned to look as the green-boy pushed himself up and dusted off his green pelt. He stood with his forepaws on his hips, staring from one brother to the next. Iamb corrected his haughty stance and adopted a submissive crouch. Bicca, who was already in a submissive crouch, rolled over onto his back and flashed his pale belly to the green-boy. The green-boy sighed, then dropped down to crouch between the two young Wolfoses. He rolled Bicca onto his belly with a gentle paw, resting the other paw on Iamb's head. He murmured to them softly. His voice was not angry, but both pups knew better than to assume the danger had passed. They had done something wrong, and the green-boy was letting them off very easy. The mother would be scolding them now...and she wouldn't have put up with all that roughhousing, either.

The green-boy ended his low speech by pulling the two Wolfos cubs closer together and resting his forehead on their furry brows. It was a subdued moment, so strange amidst all the vigorous play. Bicca felt his paws twitch and his legs tense eagerly. He wanted to play more! He would be gentler this time...and make sure that _Iamb_ was the last one to push the green-boy.

The green-boy sat back on his haunches and studied the two cubs lying in front of him. He sighed, shook his head, and rose to his hindpaws. Iamb and Bicca followed his lead, rising onto all fours. Iamb heard him mutter something to himself and caught the word "Saria", the word that often meant the green-boy was talking about the mother. The green-boy seemed a little hesitant as he motioned for the two Wolfoses to follow behind him. He was headed for one of the many forest trails. Bicca nudged his brother excitedly and darted off to trot beside the green-boy. Iamb watched the two of them—Bicca nosing the green-boy's paws and whining appealingly, the green-boy scratching behind Bicca's ears—and felt a little out of place. Drawing himself up swiftly, the older pup bounded ahead, eager to show his subtler affections for the green-boy.

* * *

"Saria...I think they're getting a little too big for us to keep playing with," Link said nervously. He took Iamb's hefty paw in both his hands and showed it to his friend. "Look! His paw's bigger than one of my hands!"

"He's a pup. They all have paws like that," Saria told him confidently. She took Iamb's foot and tickled the pad lovingly. The bigger pup snorted and jiggled his paw out of her reach. "Link, don't worry about it. I know they're starting to grow, but _we're_ raising them! They won't hurt _us_. We're like...I dunno, their pack, I guess."

Link scuffed his foot in the dust, not meeting the Kokiri girl's eyes. Saria frowned with concern. "You're not...afraid of them, are you?" she asked, hoping for all the world it didn't sound like she was calling his courage into question. Link started to shake his head, paused, nodded, then shook it again.

"Not afraid," he replied. "Nervous, maybe."

Saria sighed. "Look, I know they're getting big, but we can't just abandon them," she protested. Link frowned slightly, but did not say anything to argue or agree.

It was the perfect evening to be out with the cubs. The sun had set roughly an hour ago, leaving the Forest lit with only a calming indigo glow. Overhead, a sickle moon hung like a white claw in the rich, dark sky, surrounded by a brilliant scattering of stars. Fireflies glowed in brief pinpricks of greenish-yellow, seeking company on the fine night. Crickets hummed in monotones in the thick grass in counterpoint to the chirruping of the small frogs. As if sensing their part in the nighttime chorus, the two pups tilted back their heads, and yipped and yowled. Their unpolished, harsh notes sent the crickets and frogs into a frenzy, as if the smaller creatures were trying to cover the awful din. Saria and Link looked at each other and laughed. The final question hovered at the back of the young girl's mind, but the rest of her forgot it entirely in the joy of the night.

Later on, as they settled the two young Wolfoses into their den, a sinister thought occurred to Saria. She saw how Bicca and his brother seemed to duel for space in their shallow den. She hadn't realized how _fast_ they would grow! Seeing it made her remember the pup's half-forgotten mother. _How_ big had that mother Wolfos been...? Incredibly big. And Iamb and Bicca would be that big, too, some day. Saria realized she would need to find the pups a larger den before long. But once they were out of their little 'nursery' den...they would no longer feel like her little puppies any more. Moving them to a larger den would show that they were growing Wolfos cubs, who would one day tower over the Kokiri they had adopted as their mother. The girl bit her lip as she stroked Iamb's sleek head.

She never wanted them to grow up. She wanted them to stay small and manageable and _hers_. Deep down, she wanted them to stay the way they were now: her pets. _That's what they _really _are, _a voice in the back of her mind told her evilly. _They're just your fluffy little pets. You feed them and train them and take them on walks. They're your little puppies. You don't really want what's best for them. You just want them to be yours forever._

Biting her lip, Saria shuddered and sighed. Looking at the two of them as they shifted restlessly, she knew that one day they would grow too big for her to cuddle and play with. She turned her gaze to Link and said, "We'll have to wait and see. I guess we'll know what's right when the time comes." The boy nodded, and the two of them headed back towards the Kokiri village.

* * *

The rabbit was dead.

Bicca nudged it curiously with a red-dappled forepaw, whining in confusion. The rabbit did not stir, merely lay like a doll, its mouth half open. Blood was spattered across its flanks were inquisitive claws and teeth had probed a little too deeply. Its brown fur flew up as Iamb snuffed its back, revealing pale white skin and a gray coat of underfur. The two Wolfos pups looked at each other, thoroughly confounded by the prone animal's strange behavior. Iamb snorted and licked a fleck of red from Bicca's black nose. Bicca sniffed the rabbit again and barked at it, as if trying to startle it back into life. The rabbit remained deceased. Iamb lowered his head as Bicca lifted his, taking his turn to check out their former playmate.

The rabbit had been alive a moment ago, and they could not understand why it wasn't anymore. The two young Wolfoses had spotted it nibbling at the grass on the Forest floor. The sight of its furry, plump body had sent the two pups into ecstacy. It was their first time seeing anything smaller than they were that hadn't run away. Eager to claim their new playmate, they had bolted away from Saria's side in pursuit of the rabbit, their heavy paws throwing leaves and clots of dirt into the air. The sound of their approach alert the rabbit, who, at the sight of two perfectly dangerous predators, had leapt a full foot into the air, whirled about, and taken to its heels in a flash of brown.

It was easy for the two strong beasts to catch up with their quarry, and once they had, the games had begun. Bicca, the more agile of the twosome, had darted forwards and caught the fleeing rabbit deftly with his paw. He was fairly sure that one of his claws had hooked into its soft underbelly as he threw it aloft. The rabbit had let out a thin scream as Iamb's jaws locked around it. The older pup had given the rabbit a few playful shakes, then dropped it on the ground for Bicca to have a turn. Shakily, the rabbit tried to run, but Bicca had cornered it between a large rock and a tree. The younger pup, his bright eyes aglow, had spun his forepaws at his terrified playmate, throwing it up into the air, where Iamb had batted it back down to earth. As his big paws pressed down on its neck, there had been a cracking noise, and suddenly the rabbit had stopped trying to leave.

The two pups had no sense of "death." They wondered if the rabbit was sleeping, tired out from the heavy playing. Bicca suggested they take their friend back to the mother, sure that she would look after it until it awoke, ready to play again. Iamb gripped the rabbit by its head and trotted back to the path where they had left Saria. The Kokiri girl was waiting there for them. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the bleeding, dead rabbit that Iamb carried in his teeth. The older cub placed his kill at her feet as if to say, _What do I do with it now? Can you show me?_

"Is that their first kill?" Fael asked. Saria, unable to speak for fear of being sick to her stomach, nodded mutely. "I guess its their way of saying they're ready to be weaned now..."

Saria bent down stiffly, took the rabbit in her hands, and looked from Iamb to Bicca. The two Wolfos cub were gazing up at her with pride. She looked back down at the rabbit, her hands tremulously stroking its damp, ragged pelt. With a shiver, she realized she would not say for sure which marks came from claws, and which from teeth. A few nights ago, Link had told her he was worried that the cubs were starting to get too big to be treated as pets. Maybe he was right.

The Kokiri girl shook herself. Theses were her pups, yes, but they shouldn't be pets. Their mother, though gentle, had been wild and free, and she would have wanted the same for her young. It was painful for her to do it, but Saria knew that she had to. She bent down and gave both of the cubs a rewarding pat on the head, then held the rabbit out to them. "It's your catch," she told them quietly. "Go on...you can eat it now..." She set it down between them and closed her eyes. Iamb sniffed the rabbit, obviously at a loss over what to do with it. He licked its bloody flank as if trying to rouse it from death. Bicca gave the corpse a lick as well, his tongue passing over its head, where the rabbit's life was oozing from the holes made by Iamb's careless teeth.

Then, in that instant, it all changed.

With the salty, metallic taste of the blood of prey in their mouths, the two young Wolfoses went wild. They let out fearsome whoops and calls. They pounced at their kill. They growled, challenging it to rejoin the living to be killed again. Then Iamb grabbed the rabbit's head, while Bicca grabbed its long hind legs. They strained back from each other and ripped the rabbit in two. Saria whimpered, but the cubs did not hear her. They set to work devouring the still-warm rabbit, reducing it to bloody scraps in a matter of seconds. This was what they had been waiting for: the blood of their first catch. It matted their faces and stained their teeth red. Iamb threw back his head and let out a shrill, raucous howl of victory. Bicca joined him, his voice a little more on-key and less high-pitched. They launched themselves at each other, tumbling and rolling in the soft grass of the Forest. The joy an excitement of the moment possessed them, and they grappled like playful young demons. To see her beloved pups so maddened with triumph nearly broke Saria's gentle heart, and she broke down into tears.

The soft sobbing sounds seemed to snap the Wolfos pups out of their bloodlust. Bicca went limp under Iamb's grip and turned his head to look at the girl. Iamb stepped off his brother, whining dejectedly. Saria sat in a patch of sunlight, her face in her hands. Fael hummed around her, whispering soothingly and drying the child's tears with her wings. Humble and quiet as the rabbit that now lay in their bellies, the two pups padded over to her side and whimpered. Their tails hung between their hind legs. Iamb licked Saria's knee and whined again, hoping to bring her attention to him. The Kokiri looked up and sniffled. Iamb whined a third time and rolled onto his back before her, kicking his back paws playfully. Bicca pounced on his brother's upturned belly in attempt to make the girl smile.

Saria allowed herself a faint grin before tearing the bottom hem off her tunic. If anyone asked, she decided, she could always tell them that she had torn it while hiking. With calm determination, she started to scrub the blood from Iamb's face and fangs. It would have worked better with water, but there wouldn't be a creek for another few minutes' walk. When she had finished, the Wolfos's black face was still streaked with red, but it was already drying to an unnoticeable dark brown hue. Then, she turned to Bicca, and started to clean him off as well. It took a bit more effort this time, because the pup's face was so pale. When she was done, the two Wolfos cubs in front of her were much easier to look at. "There," she murmured. "Congratulations. You just made your first kill. I wish I knew what your mother would have done for you."

Iamb and Bicca settled their heads in the girl's lap, gazing up at her with their wide, pupil-less eyes. Saria smiled, but it was a worried smile. Link was right. They were growing up too fast for her to keep treating them as little pets. She decided that she had to find them a new place to live, a place where they could grow and hunt and thrive.

* * *

Saria set out the next morning, alone save for Fael, who bobbed beside her like a pink lantern in the muggy morning. The sky in the East was painted an odd shade of pale red as the sun slowly oozed its way above the horizon. A few stars were still visible between the cracks of the clouds that had rolled in overnight. The Forest was eerily still that morning without even the chirrups of early birds or insects. It felt as if a giant, humid hand was pressing down on the Forest, smothering its inhabitants. The girl wiped her forehead, sighing with disgust. "The sun's not fully up yet, and it's already so hot!" she complained. Fael shivered with a sound like a bell tinkling.

"Something is building," the fairy whispered, dropping lower until she rested on Saria's shoulder. "We need to find the cubs' new home fast, before it breaks."

"What?"

"The storm...Can't you feel it?"

Saria bit her lip. That was just her luck. Iamb and Bicca both had proven themselves to be terrified of thunder and lightning, and she regretted moving them from their familiar den to somewhere new when one was about to break over the Forest—but she had to. The sooner she got the two cubs acclimated to their new home, the better. At any rate, she needed to be able to fit inside their new den with them to help calm their fears. "We have to hurry then," she said. "How long do we have, do you think?"

"It's hard to say," Fael replied. "The storm is building fast, and it will be incredible when it breaks. I think we have until about midday. After that...well, it's all up to Fate at that point." The pink fairy sighed as she drifted upwards again. "Are we going to bring them along with us?"

"Yes. They'll know what they need. I was going to let them choose their new den. Do you think that'll work?"

"We'll see."

The Kokiri knelt at the entrance of the cubs' small cave and howled softly. She heard scuffling, kicking, and muffled barking. She stepped back just in time, as Iamb, then Bicca, tumbled out in front of her. After a few minutes of face-licking and tail-swishing, the two young Wolfoses bounced in front of the child, clearly eager to explore and play. Saria smiled, a little grimly, and wondered how they couldn't smell her unease. Would they understand that this would be the last time they stepped outside their little cave den at the edge of the Forest? Swallowing her guilt, the girl waved for the two pups, and took off running towards the trees. Iamb and Bicca followed after her with playful yelps and happy barks. Neither one so much as glanced over their shoulder at the den they left behind.

As the morning wore on, it became clear to the pups that something was very wrong, that this was not one of their usual gambols through the Forest. They looked at each other every time Saria motioned towards a new cave or sheltered place. They trooped in hesitantly, and wagged their tails politely once inside, but once they were back out, their tails fell between their legs. Iamb's ears were pressed flat to the sides of his head, and Bicca occasionally jumped at shadows and whimpered. A distant murmur of thunder sent them into a fearful frenzy, and they bolted back and forth while Saria shouted for them to stop. The girl frowned and set her jaw grimly. She knew her time was running out, and if she didn't find a new home for the two young Wolfoses before the storm broke, they might run to where she could not follow. A swift whistle brought them to their senses, and they padded to sit, one on either side, next to her.

Saria knelt down and took their muzzles in her hands. "I know it's hard," she told them gently, "but you have to understand that everything must change eventually. I won't give up until I find you two a new place to stay, and I won't leave you until the storm is over. Don't be scared...I'm here, and I always will be." Her words had a calming effect on the two creatures, and their tails lifted slightly from their timid curls. Saria stood up, resting her hands on their furry heads, occasionally scratching behind an ear. They set out again, deeper still through the Lost Woods.

Barely a heartbeat later, something flickered out of the corner of the girl's eyes. She whipped her head around to see what it was, but it was gone. An eerie feeling crept over her, like nothing she had ever felt before. Saria shuddered, pausing for a moment as she tried to figure out where she was. She was standing in a small clearing, surrounded by thick trees and growth. The ground in front of her had been torn up in a narrow path by what looked like heavy, thick-clawed paws. Dead branches dangled on strips of bark, some still clinging to their withered, brown leaves. These branches had been broken not that long ago, perhaps within the past couple of months. Beside her, Iamb and Bicca whined plaintively. Thunder growled behind them, but with Saria's hands on their heads, they would not bolt.

The still air gusted with the prefrontal wind, turning the leaves to flash their white bellies to the darkening sky in surrender. Suddenly the woods were filled with a sickening stench, like the rotting of forgotten plants. Saria heard a low, rumbling grunt behind her and turned. Standing more than three times her full height was a monster from her worst nightmares. Its narrow eyes squinted down at her as it shifted the spear in its thick hands into a throwing position. She could see a long, thin scar running down its forearm, not at all unlike the scratches the cubs sometimes inflicted on her when their playing got rough. The monster shifted its eyes from the child down to the two Wolfoses beside her. It let out a grunting cry that nearly drowned out the thunder, and lunged.

Saria screamed, her legs locking up as if the beast had pushed her Outside. Iamb and Bicca let out terrified, high-pitched howls. It was the same cry that Saria had heard them use to call her so many times. _I'm sorry...I can't protect you this time,_ she thought sadly. They flinched as one, cringing away from the monster's spear and awaiting certain death. Barely a heartbeat later, the air was filled with a ringing, ethereal roar that seemed to break out of the ground. The wind shifted, clearing the air of the monster's dead, rotting smell. There was the sound of the monster's spear falling into the bushes behind it. Saria opened her eyes, timidly at first, only to have them fly open in shock.

The beast was grappling fiercely with a shining Wolfos, bellowing in pain as its bright teeth sank into the muscular arm instinct had thrown across its neck. It tried to shake the Wolfos off, but the brave creature's fangs were locked into place. Its body barely flopped as the beast flailed its arm. Saria gazed in awe at her savior. The Wolfos's pelt shone silver in the darkness, with faint suggestions of brown and gray markings. Its glowing back was covered in a silvery-red splotch that seemed to originate between its shoulders. The same faded red appeared at the base of its tail. Its eyes were pale yellow, slitted with rage as its clawed feet struck out at the beast again and again. The eerie light that filled the clearing seemed to be coming from it, radiating off its flanks in beautiful, argent pulses. As it lashed out with its paws and whipped its head from side to side, the Wolfos let out a salvo of earth-shaking roars without ever opening its mouth. Saria flinched as the monster tried to punch the Wolfos away, only to gasp as its arm slipped right through that glorious, shining body. That's when realization struck the Kokiri girl.

It was the vengeful ghost of the mother Wolfos, returning from the afterlife to protect her cubs.

Saria felt a tug at her heel and looked down. A second Wolfos, this one barely the size of Bicca's tail, crouched with her boot in its glowing teeth. With a gasp, she recognized Penata, the long-lost runt of the avenging mother ghost's litter. Penata yipped, her voice seeming to come from far away, and took off running down the narrow, rough path that the girl had noticed earlier. The Forest was dark, and rain could be heard pattering the leaves overhead in a harsh, drumming rhythm, but Penata's glowing body cast plenty of light with which to see. Saria cast one final glance over her shoulder at the furious Wolfos spirit, who was fighting the beast with the strength and courage of a thousand of her kind, and whispered her thanks. Then, she whirled around and took after the pup's spirit, Iamb and Bicca running at her sides.

* * *

The beast watched its intended quarry leave, its small brain working overtime to comprehend more than one thing at once. Weighing heavily on its mind was its prey, which was escaping while being led by a small streak of silver light. However, weighing heavily on its body was the snarling, clawing, slashing Wolfos. It abandoned it prey to focus on the assailant currently tearing its arm to shreds. It tried to simplify things by saying that it was one of the wolf-things that stalked through the trees and occasionally hunted the deer...but something still wasn't right.

The wolf-things were solid. If it punched one of the wolf-things, the wolf-thing would fall back, and sometimes stop moving. However, this wolf-thing was not solid, which meant it _wasn't _a wolf-thing, but it _looked_ like a wolf-thing, but it couldn't _punch _it, so it wasn't _solid_, so it _wasn't really_ a wolf-thing, but it _looked _like one, and...and...and...

And even though it couldn't be punched, the not-wolf-thing's teeth hurt a_ lot_.

* * *

"Penata, wait up!!" Saria cried, hoping to slow the ghostly, silver pup's blazing run. Penata did stop for a moment, turning and looking back at the girl with her eerily pale yellow eyes. She cocked her head to the side curiously. Saria was nearly out of breath, not only from running, but also from shock. There was no mistaking that the Wolfos she had seen attacking the monster was a ghost, but somehow its fangs had been solid enough to draw blood and cause the monster pain. She could still hear the distant roars of the combatants, although they were fading fast and becoming lost in the rain and thunder.

Penata whined in her faraway voice as if to say _Not much further now. You can make it._ Saria sighed and nodded. Penata took off in a loping blur of light through the thick, dark woods. The undergrowth was becoming denser now, more tangled and thick. The child was hard-pressed to keep up. Iamb and Bicca pulled ahead of her, the silver light of their dead littermate's body flashing in their eyes. Saria tripped in her stride, only to catch herself by grabbing the Y-fork of a sapling tree. Penata stopped and whined again, prancing from side to side eagerly. The Kokiri regained her feet and started back after the pup. Only then did she notice that the fork of the tree, as well as the ground were splattered with the same silver-red substance she had seen on the mother Wolfos's back.

Penata barked to encourage the stumbling girl, and Iamb and Bicca trotted back to help her forwards. Saria rested her hands on their heads as she walked on trembling legs. Fael huddled up next to her neck, offering her a little warmth and comfort. The fairy's pink glow seemed lost in the darkness, like a candle buried deep in a cave; her light was nothing compared to Penata's silver-sun glow. The girl stepped out of the dark Forest and into a wide, grassy clearing. A gasp escaped her as she stared wide eyed at the Sacred Forest Meadow. The ghost of Penata yipped from its perch atop on of the fallen steps that led up to the Forest Temple. Saria breathed a sigh of relief as she realized Penata had found her brothers a safe place to shelter. The girl coaxed the two half-grown Wolfoses up the line of fallen stairs. Why had she never noticed that the old chunks of stone could be climbed up to reach the Temple?

The rain was pouring down from the dark skies, and just as Bicca made the leap form the last stair to the platform above, lightning raced from cloud to cloud over their heads. Penata tugged at Saria's boot again, pulling the child towards the entrance of the Temple. Saria felt a moment of hesitation. She would be the first Kokiri to set off inside the Forest Temple in...no one remembered how long. The rain fell through Penata's shining body as she growled impatiently. Her growl make the stones at the child's feet rattle together. It was nothing like the earthquake roars of her mother, but it was intimidating enough. Besides, she was only a pup.

Saria stepped inside the Forest Temple, led by the ghost of the Wolfos pup she had loved and lost.

**(1) You'll see a lot of measurements like this in the future. A tail-length is, well, the length of their tail, which at this point is about a foot.**


	9. Chapter 9

Shivering, Saria stepped into the Forest Temple, out of the pouring rain. Almost immediately, she was struck with a sudden feeling of coming to herself, as if this was the place meant for her. It came in a powerful surge that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up on end. The girl swallowed fearfully, brushing the rain-soaked bangs out of her eyes as she looked around at the Temple's inside.

The small chamber she had followed Penata into put the Kokiri girl in mind of an indoor forest. The high, arched ceiling gave the Temple the feeling of an old, mystical castle, full of secrets and forgotten history. Vines crawled up the ancient, greystone walls in thick, age-furred tendrils that looped around each other in loving embraces. Two trees grew up on opposite sides of the room, each stretching its branches towards the other, high above the dripping girl's head, like a pair of separated friends. Bicca pawed the ground at his feet curiously and buried his nose in the rich, dark earth, snuffing contentedly. Iamb turned his nose to a clump of nearby moss that seemed to be begging for inspection. Saria heaved a soft sigh and, with a little more force than she'd intended, sat down on a small pile of leaves. The cubs' heads jerked up at the crunching and rustling of leaves, but soon dropped back down again.

"Not even Link would believe what just happened to us," the girl breathed, slowly easing herself back against the wall. Fael nuzzled her cheek and glowed warmly.

"He doesn't have to," the fair told her. "Look at what we found, Saria! This place must be huge...It _has_ to be big enough for these two to live in!"

Grinning tiredly, Saria nodded. "I guess you're right, Fael. Look at them! I think they've taken a liking to this old place." She did not mention that she did not share entirely in their excitement. That eerie feeling of belonging still lingered in the air, making her a touch uncomfortable. She had spent so much of her time outside the Temple...why should the _inside_ call her so strongly?

The faraway, echoing bark of Penata brought her back to the present. Her silvery body cast the glow with which Saria had seen the first chamber of the Forest Temple. The shimmering young Wolfos had remained seated at the entrance of the Temple, never coming more than a few steps into its stone walls. Saria pushed herself up reluctantly and knelt in front of the small cub. She reached out a hand to stroke her misty, glowing pelt, only to have it fall right through to the floor. She looked back out into the rain to see the light that heralded the return of the mother Wolfos's spirit. The pounding rain had no effect on the silver-lit creature, and her misty paws seemed to skim the ground as she strode. The Wolfos paused at a large, round, white object, resting her forepaws on it. This seemed to be Penata's cue, as the ghost-pup gave a final, echoing yip, licked Saria's hand, and dashed back out into the rain. Mother and cub touched noses briefly, then turned their faces back to the Temple. Pale, yellow eyes stared at the Kokiri from between the raindrops, for a heartbeat that stretched out for years. Then, as quickly as they had appeared, the two wandering spirits left, leaping up through the air toward the darkened skies.

Iamb and Bicca chose that moment to appear on either side of Saria, their eyes wide with interest. As the two shining beasts bounded up through the downpour, they threw back their heads and howled. It seemed to be a sendoff, a well-wishing for the mother they never knew and the sister they no longer remembered. Lightning flashed as they dropped their heads, but neither flinched. Saria put her arms around their necks and pulled them close.

"I guess that's it then," Fael murmured. The girl turned curiously.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I think that mother Wolfos was still around because she regretted not living to rear her cubs," the fairy replied. "I'd say she died fearing that...whatever it was we ran into would find her cubs and kill them. By saving them—and us—from that monster, she finally reconciled with her past regrets and was able to move on. I wouldn't be surprised if that's the last time we see her."

Saria sighed. "And Penata?" she asked, a little fearfully. What would Penata have to regret? Fael nuzzled her cheek comfortingly.

"I think Penata wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to you or her brothers just yet," she answered calmly. Saria smiled a little.

* * *

Bicca was the first to break away from the group hug that enfolded him. He sat up, sneezed loudly, then shook his damp pelt out briskly, showering the others with a mist of fine droplets. Saria laughed as she raised a hand to fed off the spray. Bicca's bright eyes flashed in the low light, and he pushed his head up against the girl's chest lovingly. The unexpected shove sent her sprawling backwards onto Iamb, who stumbled for footing on the hard-packed floor. Saria buried her nose fondly into Bicca's dewy ruff, wrinkling her face up a little at the pungent odor of wet Wolfos. "Ugh! You two are getting so big now!" she muttered, ruffling the younger pup's thick neck fur. "Come on, Bicca, ease up. You're starting to crush me." She gave him a light shove to further her command, and Bicca obeyed with surprising quickness.

Iamb slipped away from Saria, his furry face twisting up with a massive yawn. The older Wolfos glanced from side to side, apparently confused about something. He scratched at the ground with his clawed forefoot and whined. Saria caught on quickly. The relaxed slope of his burly shoulders and occasional stumble of his big paws said it all. He was tired, but something was keeping him from lying down. It was then that she noticed both Iamb and Bicca staring at her impatiently. _They need a nest to sleep in,_ the Kokiri realized.

Quickly, she heaped together a pile of leaves beneath one of the trees, then stepped back to let the two cubs claim their new bed. Iamb moved first, turning a few leaves over with his black nose and sniffing them thoroughly. Bicca patted a clump curiously, whuffing under his breath. Then Iamb gave one final stretch before plunking himself down on one of the edges, curling his furry body around the outside. Bicca followed his brother's lead, curling up on the opposite edge. The two rubbed their muzzles together before turning to look up at Saria curiously.

_Sruff,_ Iamb ordered, slapping the unclaimed, open center of the pile with his heavy paw. Bicca's tail thumped a few times. Saria grinned.

"You want me to sleep with you two?" she asked. The pups' faces brightened up considerably as the girl slowly eased herself between them. Iamb licked her face, while Bicca bellied closer to her. "I should have expected it," she told Fael. "They're still pups, after all, and this is a new place for them." She smiled as she rested her head on Iamb's flank. "And I think it's _the_ place for them."

Fael dropped down onto her chest with a soft, furry _plop_. "I agree," she murmured. "Something about it just seems...I don't know, _made_ for them. How about tomorrow we explore this place with them, so they get a feel for their new home?"

"I think that would be good." Saria snuggled down, sighing happily. She could hear the steady rasp of the bigger pup's breathing, and feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. A brush of humid fur told her Bicca had joined the snuggle. The girl knew it wouldn't be for much longer that she could be so close to these two young creatures. Sooner or later, she knew, she would have to let them go, to live on their own. But it was nice to still have those moments, and despite the fact that it was only early evening, she fell asleep, pressed lovingly between two Wolfos cubs.

* * *

Iamb opened his eyes slowly, shifting carefully away from the sleeping body beside him so as not to waken her. Bicca had already left the new nest, and was sitting in a small pool of sunlight at the entrance of the new den. At the sound of his brother's movements, the younger pup turned and wagged his tail in greeting. He bellied towards his brother, eager to show his affections. Iamb allowed him a nose-sniff, then raised his head above his brother's reach. _Rain is gone,_ he noted, gazing outside the stone-den. Bicca gave a gleeful caper, then brought his paw up to bat at Iamb's nose. Iamb snorted and smacked the paw down with one of his own. He wasn't ready for games this early, not after he had just woken up.

Something tickled the back of his mind, and the larger cub looked down at his front paw. He held it up for closer inspection, startled by the changes he found. At birth, all four of a Hylian Wolfos's foreclaws are the same length. As they mature, the middle two claws begin to grow at an incredible rate, becoming nearly quadruple the length of the other two. They curve, developing retractile muscles as well, allowing the Wolfos to tuck them up against its pawpads when it walks or runs. Because of their incredible size in comparison to the other claws, most of the Wolfos's victims only see two claws when the beast strikes. **(1) **Though not as impressive as they would be someday, Iamb's middle two claws already showed signs of increased growth, and were a good half-inch longer than the outside ones.

Bicca pushed his nose up against his brother's forepaw, curious to se what had given the older cub pause. He cocked his head to the side. _Claws are new,_ he commented, then looked down to see if his own talons were growing. In a swift flick, he pulled his claws up against the soles of his furry forefeet before Iamb could blink. He waited nervously, but the older cub did not seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Once he turned away, Bicca loosed his claws again to study them. They were longer than Iamb's! Certainly not as thick, but undeniably longer. Bicca whined a soft _heen_ of pride.

_The mother is still sleeping,_ Iamb barked. _Can't feed us if she is sleeping. Wake her?_

Bicca scratched behind his ear. _Maybe find new furry bit to play with,_ he suggested. _Last one was good. It smelled so red and good._ He licked his nose and did a short, light prance in the air. _Will we go, brother?_

Iamb glanced down at the sleeping, green mother, then back to his wiggly brother. Bicca's high energy was amusing, and his cheerful nature was contagious. The older Wolfos soon found himself unable to contain a prance of his own. That was enough for Bicca, and the young Wolfos darted away from the high-arched entrance to the stone-den and sped towards the other end of it. Iamb was quick to follow, and the two began to search in earnest for a new playmate.

They worked together with surprising efficiency, with each cub moving opposite the other, then looping around until they met again. This was a solid tactic if a hunting party was short a few scouts. If Iamb had flushed out any small prey, Bicca would have been just opposite him, and could easily have headed their quarry off before it escaped. All the more interesting, though, is that no one had taught the two of them how to do this. Many unusual things were innate knowledge for the Wolfos, a kind of acquired instinct that eons of pack life had bred into the creatures. Basic hunting techniques, which would later be refined through experience, were among them; and as the two of them stalked imaginary rabbits, it was clear that they would need a substantial amount of "refinement." Bicca kept uttering little yelps of excitement as he sniffed the ground, and Iamb's footfalls would have woken the dead.

The two of them met up in the middle of the stone-den, feeling disappointed. Bicca cocked his head quizzically to the side. _Nothing like furry bit here,_ he whined. _Nothing to play with until the mother wakes up._ He sat down heavily, hunching up his shoulders and giving the impression of a pouting child. Iamb snorted impatiently at his brother's act. When tact and though failed, he became a Wolfos of action, and he busied himself now by looking around the den carefully. Surely, he reasoned, there had to be something in here to entertain his brother and him. Already the massive stone-den was beginning to look small to him. It was too difficult to climb up to the entrance for there not to be anything of interest in this place. Then, his roving eyes spotted something off to the side, directly across from the stone-den's entrance. There, on the far wall, stood a tall stone structure that reached almost to the ceiling. It was made of gray stone, carved ornately—at least, that which could be seen under the ivy and moss was. It looked almost like the front of a house, with a square base that soared up into a peaked triangle for the roof, and a small overhang above what would be the door. The older brother studied what lay beneath the overhang curiously, focusing intently on the brown-smelling block that rested beneath its eaves.

It looked like a door.

Where did it lead? Iamb padded over a few smooth stones that paved the floor below—more of which certainly lay beneath the rich compost of fallen leaves and generations of weeds—and up a small flight of stairs. Bicca looked up with interest and followed his brother. They squeezed into the narrow doorway side-by-side, grunting uncomfortably, and studied the strange thing before them. It _was _a door, and old one, made of soggy-looking wood. Iamb thrust his nose forwards to sniff, recoiling almost immediately from the dark, heavy, brown odor of rotting wood. With a glance at his brother warning him not to smell the door, the larger cub struggled forwards toward the door and gave it a sharp nudge with his shoulder. The door was tall and fairly thick; had it not been for untold years of its wood being soaked by trickles of rain and left wet for lack of sunlight, the pup surely would not have been able to budge it. However, the wood was aged and weak, and it crumbled off its rusted hinges to land on the paved floor of the adjoining hallway with a very anticlimactic _spwick. _A large cloud of dust puffed out from the stone-paved floor below. The two cubs suffered a minor sneezing fit until it cleared. Bicca turned to Iamb. _Will we go in?_ he asked. His brilliant eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Iamb found it hard to say no.

The two young Wolfoses entered the hallway, gazing around them with bright, curious eyes. Its walls were stone as well, and vines dangled thickly from the ceiling in green canopies. The floor was paved like the narrow strip in the first room of the stone-den was, but these stones were covered in a layer of thick dust. Bicca noticed that his pawprints showed up clearly in the thick grime, and was soon amusing himself by trotting back and forth across the dusty floor to see his own personal trails. This quickly turned into the pup bolting back and forth, then sliding on his heels so he could admire the skidmarks. Iamb branched off from him, preferring to investigate every corner and crack thoroughly. This was their den now, and he was intent on learning every inch of it. He gave the spiders he encountered a regal-sounding growl to let them know they were allowed to inhabit his and his brother's den...provided they didn't try anything funny.

Moments after their entrance into the hallway, the two cubs pricked up their ears and swivelled them around inquisitively. A soft churring noise filled the air, growing louder and louder each minute. Iamb, who had been standing on his hindpaws to investigate a small nook that was just a sideclaw's length out of his reach, dropped down and turned to face his brother. _Chk-chk, chk-chk,_ he imitated. _You?_ Bicca, fresh from a crash, was resting on his shoulders and neck, while his hindquarters leaned against the wall and hung over his body. He looked at Iamb from between his hind legs, and for a moment considered asking how he had learned to walk on the ceiling. Then Iamb's question hit home, and the pup realized that the whirring sound he had been listening to did not come from his brother. He kicked his back paws, and the inertia was just enough to topple him forward, landing him on his belly with his nose to the wall. He stood up and turned to face the other Wolfos.

_Not me,_ he replied. _Thought it was you._

Iamb shook his head firmly. _Not me. Don't make that kind of noise._ His ears flattened, and he pulled back his lips to reveal white milk-teeth. Something had escaped his careful surveillance, and had intruded upon the stone-den. A low growl started in his throat as he stalked, stiff-legged, towards the sound. Bicca followed his lead, a stiff ridge of black fur standing up along his spine. The two young Wolfoses glanced suspiciously around, seeking the intruder. The sounds reached an almost deafening climax. Iamb and Bicca snapped their heads up towards the noise, and leapt back with frightened yips as the creature landed between them on the stone floor. It looked like a spider, only much larger, Iamb thought, with yellow-banded legs and a rounded white body. Red eyes gleamed beneath a black pattern that strongly suggested an angry skull. The spider-like monster was making the strange, loud sounds, and for a moment, the two pups quite forgot what to do. They cowered against the walls behind them, whimpering and quivering pathetically.

Then Bicca, the faster-thinking of the two, stumbled upon a brilliant idea. He crept towards the arachnid as if stalking his prey and barked. The creature's whirring stopped briefly. Emboldened by this, Iamb bounded forward and offered a few barks of his own. The spider-thing shifted its attention from one to the other and churred angrily. Bicca decided to make a game of it, leaning in to taunt the odd-looking animal, then bouncing up onto his hindpaws with a yelpy bark whenever it looked back at him. Iamb pranced around it in a similar way, once even daring to pat its white carapace when its back was turned on him. The two pups looked up at each other, tails wagging happily at their new playmate's frustration. Then Iamb darted up and spanked the spider-thing with both his front paws. He skipped back nimbly, wondering if his attack had unbalanced the creature to the extent that it would fall onto its round back. Quite the contrary, the spider-thing reared up and snapped its pincers at Bicca's brown nose. The smaller cub reeled back, whining unhappily. The spider's pincers had not broken the skin, but they had given him a very painful warning.

Iamb was furious that this intruder thought itself cocky enough to sneak into their den and attack them. He let off a salvo of loud, high-pitched barks that echoed off the walls around them, then flung himself again at the creature. This time, he put his full weight on the spider-thing's bulging body and flipped it over onto its back, exposing a ribbed, flat underbelly. The arachnid twitched its striped legs in a futile attempt to right itself. Bicca forgot his smarting nose and approached the spider-thing tentatively. He barked once, then promptly turned tail and bolted back against the wall. When the creature did not retaliate, he bounded back towards it and barked again, this time only drawing back a bit. Iamb's tail wagged. _Spider-thing helpless on its back,_ he declared proudly. Bicca's bright tongue flashed up to flick across his nose. He knew full well what was coming up next, and he was looking forward to it.

The two pups narrowed their eyes mischievously, then pounced upon the overturned spider with outstretched claws. They were eager to hold yet another violent game of tug-o-war with something smaller and weaker than themselves. Iamb came down on the arachnid first, putting all his weight onto his forepaws. He and his brother both let out yaps of surprise, not only when their furry heads collided, but also as the spider shot out from underneath their feet and skidded across the floor, as if it were a bar of wet soap. It smacked against the wall and managed to flip itself upright against the stones, then churred up the wall to vanish amid the heavy green vines. Bicca growled in frustration, rearing up on his hind legs and clawing the air in a whirl. Iamb skipped under his brother's spinning forelegs and stationed himself below the wall the creature had vanished up. He snapped his jaws up at the ceiling. The two Wolfoses looked back at each other briefly. Bicca's tail swished, just once, as if he were asking his brother's permission to celebrate. Iamb relented, and the two of them soon fell into a playful tussle.

A giggle stopped them. The two pups turned their heads to see the mother standing in the doorway, her eyes warm. She was showing them her teeth, a gesture that would have incited most of their kind to fight; however, since they had been raised by the mother, they took her teeth-flashing as an expression of happiness, and had adopted it as one of their own. Iamb, trapped in a rare position of submission, struggled to be the first to leap up to greet her. Unfortunately, Bicca had a good sense of Iamb's "movements for dominance" and shifted his weight accordingly to keep his brother pinned. With a proud sniff and a wag of the tail, he leapt off and darted towards the mother in a flash of mottled fur. She held out her pink forepaw to slow his advance, and the younger cub hastily skidded on his heels to keep from crashing into her. Walking on hindpaws all the time made her very unstable when it came to energetic hellos, he knew.

Iamb nudged him aside just as Bicca slowed down. It was a subtle push, just strong enough to brush him aside, and Bicca rolled with it easily. He wasn't older by much, but Iamb was noticeably larger than Bicca, and the smaller cub accepted his might-is-right dominance without so much as a disdainful snap of his fangs. To an outsider, it would have seemed odd that Iamb was asserting himself so frequently over his younger brother; but to one who understood the behavior of Wolfoses, it was not surprising in the least. Lower hierarchies in a large pack shifted nearly every week. As middle-class pack members aged, those on the outskirts began to see an opportunity to win a higher rank, and began to toughen themselves up accordingly. They would scrap frequently, and the outcome would decide whether the underling needed more training or an oldster needed to rethink their place. Dominant beasts asserted themselves at the slightest instance of insubordination, and sometimes even when none had been committed. Even the cubs in a single litter establish dominance—before they can even see each others' faces—with superior cubs pushing their littermates aside for the best nursing position. Once their eyes are opened, the cubs must then integrate themselves into the rest of the pack and learn how to keep their standing very quickly. Only those unafraid to shove and nip hold any real power in the long run.

* * *

It was difficult for Saria to hold in the urge to call the excited Wolfos pups back to her side every few minutes. She had to constantly remind herself that they needed free rein to explore their new home. _Besides_, she chided herself,_ they're growing so fast now, and this place is empty. There's nothing here that could possibly hurt them. _She smiled to herself, recalling the incident that had awoken her that morning. She had heard the pups yipping and barking at something, and had found them playfully attacking a Skulltula. The Kokiri had no doubt that the spider-like monster had been terrified out of its wits when they had gone in for the kill. Skulltulas were some of the worse things that she knew she would find here. There might be some Deku Babas, which thrived in soggy soil; or perhaps bat-like Keese that squealed and dove from rafters and trees; maybe there would even be a few Stalchilds, small skeletons that walked with eerie clattering noises. The Stalchild would be the largest of those, but Saria was sure that if the cubs worked together, they would have no problem dismantling the rattling monster.

After the hallway wherer the cubs had tried to fight the Skulltula, the Temple opened up into a massive room that seemed to Saria the entire Kokiri village could fit inside of it. Its ceiling soared upwards into an impressive dome made of dark stone. Flickering light came from a quartet of torches in the center of the room, one red, one green, one blue, and one purple. As the small girl stepped down the flight of stairs that led from the hallway into the room, she was awed by the number of doors that dotted the walls. Some were ground-level, some were raised up on platforms, some were held shut with lock and chain...The Kokiri girl felt a little woozy with amazement. How big _was_ the Forest Temple? Fael seemed to sense this thought, for she said, "I think they'll have plenty of room to roam, even when they're fully grown."

Saria turned her head to agree with the fairy, only to be interrupted by a drawn-out yip from Iamb. She saw him with Bicca, pawing eagerly at a door in one of the corners of the massive room, a door shoved so far into the darkness she had missed it completely. It was clear that this door would not fall to even the pups' _combined _strength, and Saria instantly saw why. The door was in the inner part of the Temple, well-sheltered from water, and in good condition. She spotted the brass knob just below her eye level, its round surface flashing back some of the torches' colorful light. The girl paused for a moment before she opened it, pressing her ear to its wood. She swore she could hear familiar Forest sounds on the other side: birds calling, water rolling gently, whispers of leafy trees. Curious as the two Wolfoses, she turned the knob and stepped out into the light.

"There's no ceiling here!" she gasped, a grin spreading across her face with realization. Iamb and Bicca took off in dark streaks, howling with pleasure at the tickle of grass beneath their paws. Laughing, the Kokiri child raised a hand half-heartedly to shield her face from the brilliant sunlight that streamed down around her.

The room they had entered was more of a courtyard than anything else, guarded by high stone walls carpeted with hanging vines. A small river cut through the middle it, its clear waters bouncing back rays of sunlight as it laughed along its course. One of the banks sloped up towards the grass, allowing for any who fell in to easily clamber out again. Iamb and Bicca stood on this tiny spit of sand, lapping the water eagerly. A few trees had sprouted around the edges of the area, and their branches offered large pools of cool shade to any who entered their courtyard. Off to one side, a large balcony hung over the courtyard, just like a fairytale castle would have. In another corner was a large well, which further inspection would reveal to lead to a similar courtyard.

* * *

Saria left the cubs that night to return home, thoguh it broke her heart to hear their pleading whines as she left. She knelt down in front of them and kissed them both on the nose. "I'll be back tomorrow," she promised them, trying hard to sound soothing. "I won't leave you here alone for much longer than that. Someday you'll have this whole Temple to yourselves, but that day is a long way off." She hugged them tightly, burying her face in their furry ruffs. Then she released them and stood up, sighing quietly to herself. The two young Wolfoses lunged forwards, as if bent on knocking her over to keep her from leaving. Saria met their eyes cooly and gave them a swift hand signal. They stopped dead, whimpering unhappily. Then Iamb snorted and made his way towards the pile of leaves from the previous night. Bicca followed, but not before giving the girl one last lick.

"They know you'll be back," Fael assured her as Saria walked towards the entrance. "They're just trying to keep you from leaving. It's good that you aren't giving in to them. It'll be easier for them to let you leave when the time comes."

The Kokiri girl sighed as she picked her way back down the stone steps. "I know, Fael," she murmured. "It's just...I don't like leaving them alone like this."

"You've done it before," the fairy pointed out mildly. "You've been leaving them alone to sleep in their den for quite a while now. I don't see the difference."

"But it's a new place for them, and the Forest Temple is so big!" Saria protested.

"They can take care of themselves for the night," Fael pressed, bumping against the girl's shoulder encouragingly. "Come on, let's get you home now. Link is the only one who knows where you went. You can probably tell the others you got caught in the storm and had to wait it out...but you got lost coming back...They might not believe that because you _never_ get lost..."

But Saria was only half listening to the fairy's ramblings. Her attention was centered on something that lay discreetly in the tall grass of the Sacred Forest Meadow. The girl sank slowly to her knees to study it more closely, then gave a small, sad nod. Her hand reached out and stroked the smooth, white skull of the mother Wolfos. The scavengers had done their work well, for the bones had been picked clean and the sun had begun to bleach them. Every piece of the skeleton was there in the grass, down to the last vertebrae, stretched out as the Wolfos had been when she died. There was a kind of chilling peace about the bones that brought a calm smile to the girl's face. She turned back to Fael, who was still talking, unaware that Saria was no longer paying attention to her.

"...and you could say 'Well, they're not called the _Lost_ Woods for nothing, Mido!' which might put him right in his place, but that might not be wise because—"

"Fael?"

The fairy twitched in the air. "Yes?" she asked, sounding surprised at the direct address. Saria smiled.

"Let's head home. It's late, and I'm getting hungry."

Fael laughed her golden laugh, her furry, pink body glowing warmly in the summery darkness. A few fireflies danced like stars in air that was rich and warm with old sunlight. The Forest was full of the rustles and murmurs of the night, with only the rare squall of a falling Skullkid to break up the monotony of crickets and cicadas. Saria shuddered a little, despite the warmth. She couldn't help feeling like a trespasser, like she was merely borrowing her place in the night rather than owned it. With a nod to Fael to light the way back to the village, the Kokiri girl set out.

Before leaving the Sacred Forest Meadow, she paused at the path and glanced back at the clearing. It was difficult to see the white skeleton of the mother Wolfos through the thick grass. Saria remembered the last time she had left this meadow, and thought of her final image of the dead Wolfos. She thought the mighty body looked as though it was simply sleeping. Standing on her toes, the child was able to pick out most of the bones. With a smile, she changed her image of the Wolfos. Now she saw a protective guardian, a mother resting outside her cubs' den, deterring all harm from entering. She smiled quickly, then turned and raced after Fael.

**(1) I actually forgot about this entirely until very recently, but once I did, I felt really stupid. Wolfoses have those trademark two front claws. So, rather than totally de-claw the two of them, I just made their middle claws grow. **


	10. Chapter 10

**From now on, when they are alone, Iamb and Bicca will speak with quotation marks. This will make sense later on, as they will start to think for themselves more and more.** **This doesn't mean they are actually speaking human (or Hylian/Kokiri, come to think of it...) words. **

After Saria left, the cubs were miserable. The Temple was dark and unknown, and they spent the first half-hour after she departed whining and huddling closer to each other. Every sound was terrifying to them—every murmur, scratch, and drip cause for a yelp of fear. They buried their heads in the leaves to blot out the noise and fill their noses with the mother's green scent. When they were older, the cubs would look back on this first night alone in the stone-den with something approaching scorn. They would be unable to believe that the sounds that their ears could now tune out had scared them so badly. They would smirk at how pressing and menacing the darkness had seemed—darkness which they could not sleep without now. They would feel almost ashamed at how pitiful they had been...But for here and now, the unfamiliar sounds and shadows petrified the poor little Wolfoses.

The night was long, but when day finally broke, Iamb and Bicca were left with a new sense of accomplishment and pride. They leapt up, eager to poke their noses into corners and snarl at the fleeing shadows of the previous night. The stone-den was theirs now; they had passed its test and survived a night alone within its walls. Bicca spotted one of the trees and realized that its spreading branches had given him the impression of reaching claws in the darkness. He stood up on his hind paws and swiped at the trunk, leaving two diagonal rows of scratches. The cub nodded. That alone would teach the tree not to scare him, but Bicca felt the need to add insult to injury. Haughtily, he cocked a leg and urinated on the tree. The tree was unmoved by either the clawmarks on its trunk or the strong-smelling puddle spreading at its roots. Bicca stuck his nose in the air, pretending not to notice the tree's indifference. **(1)**

He turned his attention to the entrance of the stone-den, noting with some curiosity that something was inscribed above the doorway. He was fairly intrigued by the carving above the script, depicting two large Wolfoses. The carving showed them on their hind paws, their forelegs spread out to the sides. They were holding paws and looking away from each other, but the younger pup did not really care if there was symbolism involved. Bicca's tail wagged as he recognized his species. He knew deep down (although he did not know just where the knowledge had come from) below the Wolfoses was writing, and that the mother would be able to read it. But the mother was not here, and the writing passed out of Bicca's mind almost as quickly as it had entered it. The only thing that remained in his thoughts was the image of the two Wolfoses, and that image would later become a kind of talisman for him. Whenever he felt alone or afraid, he would look up at the carved creatures above the door and smile. He wondered if they might be guardian spirits for him and his brother, and later on, he would look to them for help. He would live his whole life without ever truly knowing why the carving was there...Or why the Wolfos on the right had a red line going across its chest.

Bicca trotted off after his brother, who was making his way towards the hallway where the spider-thing lurked. Iamb turned to acknowledge his little brother and looked glad to have company. Together, the two young Wolfoses bounded through the vine-draped corridor and out through the door on the other end, pausing only to lift their legs and mark the hallway as their own. The mother had opened every door to the rooms they had explored the previous day, and left them open so the two playful beasts could roam freely. They laid down scent markers in every room they could enter, side-by-side, claiming the stone-den as their territory and home.

Pale, warm sunlight crept through the door to the courtyard, drawing them into the open. Bicca tilted his head back to sniff the morning air. Iamb started towards the small river and bent his head to drink. His brother followed suit, glancing occasionally out of the corners of his eyes. Bicca finished first after a few sips, but Iamb seemed to have an unquenchable thirst. _Have to fix that,_ the younger pup thought mischievously. A Wolfos's mouth was only so big, and if Iamb needed more water than his mouth could hold, then Bicca felt it his duty to help his brother. Though he was not as large as Iamb, he was more adept at swiping with his front legs. The smaller cub pushed himself up onto his back legs and gave his brother a quick, but hearty, shove. Iamb tumbled head over tail into the small river. Bicca shrank back from the mighty splash, howling with amusement.

Iamb surfaced a heartbeat later, his head dark with wetness, his ears pressed flat against his skull. He splashed fearfully in the gentle but swift current, making his way steadily towards the small, sandy bank. Bicca howled with laughter, kicking his paws up in the air as he rolled on his back. His tail slapped the ground rapidly. Iamb dragged himself out of the water, his once-pale coat now near-black with water. He stood dripping for a heartbeat, then flung himself across the small wooden bridge that spanned the river. With a wild growl, the larger cub flung himself at his brother, and put an end to his laughter. Bicca let out a short wail as Iamb's heavy, dripping body crashed into him, pushing him against the ground roughly. "Not funny," Iamb rumbled. Bicca whined plaintively and licked his brother's nose.

"You wouldn't fight me," he whimpered. Iamb frowned, but Bicca saw an amused glint in his green eyes.

"Wouldn't I?" **(2)** Iamb nipped his brother's nose and crushed his soaked body down a little harder. Bicca writhed and yapped in protest. He hated getting wetter than he had to, and Iamb knew it. The smaller Wolfos brought his hind paws up under his belly and gave Iamb a solid kick to the stomach, nearly sending him reeling into the river again. But Iamb stopped himself a few claw-lengths from the bank and darted around his brother's side. Bicca stood up and shook off, grimacing with distaste at his damp fur—damp, not wet, so he couldn't rid himself of the clinging moisture. As he was shaking, Iamb saw his chance and charged.

The heavier cub bore down on his lighter brother with a speed and grace that belied his bulky paws. This strange grace became apparent when Bicca attempted to swerve to the side. Iamb wrenched his forequarters in that same direction, his hindpaws scrabbling the air briefly as he tried to balance himself out. It was an easy maneuver, and it didn't take much more running until Iamb's muscular shoulders slammed into Bicca's side. Bicca yowled unhappily as Iamb's assault threw the both of them into the water.

Bicca surfaced first with a kind of frantic light in his brilliant eyes. He splashed about, thrashing his body like a snake with its tail trapped. Iamb's dark head broke the rippled surface of the water, and the older cub merely blew water from his nostrils and floated with the current. He watched his floudering brother with a smirk. Then, with a quick, broad-pawed slap, he struck the water, sending a glittering wave over his brother's head. Bicca yelped and dove underwater to avoid the wave. It was only until he was fully submerged that he realized he had made himself wetter than if the wave had hit him. Angry at himself and his brother, he rose up and returned the favor. Iamb spluttered with amusement. Bicca snarled and proceeded to haul himself out onto the bank nearby. Iamb, a little upset that his fun was struggling away from him, wrapped his forepaws around Bicca's back leg and pulled him back into the water.

"Come on, not so—" The larger cub broke off and pricked up his ears. Bicca, with one paw on the sandbar, turned to face him. He cocked his head curiously.

"What—?" he began, but Iamb's paw smacked his muzzle and silenced him.

"The mother is calling us," he murmured. Bicca perked up. "Probably has food. Let's go." With that, he began clawing at the sliding, golden sand. The thought of the mother holding out something like the rabbit he and his brother had had as their first kill excited him. Bicca, who had already had a paw on the bank, darted ahead, giving his brother a light shove on the nose with his hindpaw as he did. Iamb growled and redoubled his efforts. It wasn't long before the two soaked Wolfos cubs were pounding through the passages of their Temple. Their wet paws left sloppy prints on the stone floors, interspersed with drops and skidmarks where one pushed the other out of his way.

* * *

When she saw that the two Wolfos cubs were dripping wet, Saria flung out her hands to signal a stop. She laughed as they hastened to obey. Iamb, who was in the lead, was knocked onto his belly when Bicca slammed into him from behind. The burlier cub started to growl, but when his ears caught the Kokiri's giggles, he stopped and turned to look at her. Bicca's tail wagged, even as his brother sat up and tipped him off onto the floor. The girl smiled warmly at the two pups, reaching into her bag to produce two bottles of milk. They looked at the milk with skepticism and perhaps a little scorn, but obediently sucked it down. Though clearly not what they had been hoping for, they were glad of something to eat.

Briefly, she wondered how much longer milk would keep these two growing animals happy. There had to be something in the Temple that they could hunt. If anything, there were plenty of monsters that could sustain them; if that failed, there had to be mice or rats or even a rabbit. The two young Wolfoses started sniffing and nudging her bag curiously, hoping to find more milk. The girl sighed and scratched behind their ears sadly. "Sorry, boys," she murmured. "That was all I had. I guess I figured you would have found something to hunt here."

Saria started towards the hallway, Iamb and Bicca at her heels. She trailed her fingers along the wall idly, lost in thought. Something whirred quietly overhead, the sound growing steadily louder and louder. The child started to look up curiously, only to be roughly brushed aside by Iamb. The large cub was growling low in his throat, an angry, hungry sound. Bicca positioned himself in front of Saria at a curt bark from his brother. The girl watched as a creature dropped down where she had been moments before, its pincers spread apart as it hissed in anger. Scratches on its carapace marked it as the same monster the pups had assaulted the previous day. Fael gasped. "It's a Skulltula!" she whispered.

Iamb moved quickly, leaping up to snap his jaws at the spider-like monster. Bicca yelped encouragement as he brother jumped and pounced at the Skulltula. The arachnid dangled tantalizingly out of his reach, churring taunts, or so it seemed. It drew its legs up when Iamb snapped, relaxed them when he dropped back to the floor, and pulled them away when he leapt again. Suddenly, Bicca's tail began to wag fiercely. The younger Wolfos lunged forward, pounced, then scrabbled up Iamb's back to take his turn at the Skulltula. He was rewarded for his quick thinking as his fangs closed around the monster's hard-shelled body with a loud crunching sound. Yellowish fluid spurted out from the small cracks. Iamb ducked out from under his brother, and as Bicca fell to earth, he wrenched the Skulltula free from the line of webbing that had held it to the ceiling.

Bicca set the Skulltula down on the floor and prodded it curiously with a paw, as if he could not believe it was dead. Iamb trotted over and sniffed the leaking fluid, his nose wrinkling slightly. He bent down to growl at it. The Skulltula remained lifeless. Bicca, tail swishing, took one of the spider-like beast's legs in his mouth and gave it a tug. The leg came loose with a small amount of whitish muscle attached to it. **(3)** Bracing one of its crooks on the floor with his paw, the smaller Wolfos started chewing the white meat off the end of the leg. Iamb licked his nose, and, glancing back at Saria, picked up the whole carcass and trotted into the large room at the end of the hall. Bicca walked after him, the Skulltula's leg trailing from both sides of his mouth like a banded mustache.

* * *

"The mother doesn't like us eating," Iamb barked once he set down the dead spider-thing. He licked his chops, grimacing at the strange salty-bitter fluid that filled the body. Bicca dropped the leg he had been carrying, nodding. "What does spider-thing Skulltula taste like?"

"Like meat," Bicca replied as he cracked the leg apart with a quick snap of his jaws. "Spider-thing flesh is different, but a little nice. Maybe because we wanted to kill it this time." His tail wagged as he slurped what little meat there was out of the cracked leg shell. Iamb took a jagged, broken shard of the Skulltula's ribbed underbelly and yanked it away, revealing rows of the same white flesh. He took a mouthful and chewed thoughtfully. Bicca was right, it did taste very different from rabbit—their first taste of meat. But it was a welcome difference, a kind of sharp flavor that the woodsy-tasting, brown rabbit had lacked. He tore off a leg to see if that was any different.

It didn't take long until the two young Wolfoses had demolished the Skulltula. All that remained from their first kill in the stone-den was a cracked shell and a few bits of leg. The spider-like monster had satisfied the two of them in a way that milk could not. Iamb stretched pleasantly. His nose told him that there were plenty more wall-spiders to be had in this place, as well as other creatures he had never smelled before. Another quick sniff told him that there was a small patch of dirt nearby, and with a flick of his tail to beckon Bicca, the older Wolfos started dragging the Skultula's empty shell towards it. Bicca followed, grasping the shattered legs in his teeth as he did. "The stone-den must be clean," Iamb told his brother firmly. "If shells are left lying, scavengers will come." Bicca nodded as he dug a long hole to bury the remains of their meal.

Iamb looked up to see the mother standing behind him. She laid her hand on his head and murmured words that could be praise. He picked up the sounds for "good" and "thank you," and reasoned that he was being praised for taking the Skulltula away to eat. His tail wagged fondly and he licked her hand. Bicca wiggled closer to the mother, whining for praise and affection as well. For once, Iamb forgot to be annoyed by his brother's attention-seeking. If Bicca had not been such a quick thinker, they would not have been able to eat the spider-thing. That earned him the right to act as he pleased today.

The mother left her two cubs around sunhigh **(4)**, and they stood side by side in the entrance of the stone-den to see her off. They were not afraid to spend the night alone anymore; she could leave if she wanted to. Since their kill, Iamb felt that the stone-den well and truly belonged to them. They had survived the night within its walls without the mother to protect them, and had defended it from a rather tasty intruder. He smirked to think of what it meant. Though his bloodsong said a pack was needed to hold and defend a territory, Iamb and Bicca had done it with just two. Iamb reasoned that this meant he and his brother were some kind of super-Wolfoses, stronger than any other. He swelled with pride until Bicca's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"It's a shame the mother doesn't speak our language," he murmured. "I wanted to ask her what the carving says." He stepped back and reared up on his hind paws, pointing with his extended two claws to an engraving Iamb had never noticed. The older cub studied it briefly, then shook his head.

"It probably means nothing," he barked.

"I wonder if it's us, brother."

"Why would there be a carving of us in the stone-den? This place has never been claimed by anyone, and even if it had, how would someone know we were coming?"

Bicca frowned and dropped back onto all fours. He padded after Iamb, who was heading back to their leaf-nest for a nap. His forehead was wrinkled with confusion. "I don't know," he said at length. "Maybe you're right, brother. Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it was just made to look nice." He sighed and laid down beside his brother. "And it is nice. I like to look at it."

Iamb snorted. He didn't really care for the carving. It didn't hold his attention the way it seemed to capture Bicca's. He did not see guardians or anything of that sort; the only thing he saw was a carving was two Wolfoses holding paws, and even that was not entirely interesting. Later on, when he grew older, he would look back on Bicca's humble observation and feel sick to his stomach. He would wonder if his brother ever truly understood why they were not facing each other, and yet had their paws touching. He would wonder if Bicca ever realized what the carving meant to stone-den, and to them.

* * *

The months passed quickly for the two brothers, and it wasn't long until they woke one morning to be blinded by a mysterious, strong light. Iamb raised a forepaw in front of his face to shield his eyes from the glare, whining in confusion. His curiosity was aroused at this strange light, and he tip-pawed away from the nest to see where it was coming from. He shivered as he walked, fluffing out his thick, gray coat against the chill. The stone-den had been getting colder and colder with each passing morning, and he had felt his pelt get thicker and thicker., until the cold stopped bothering him so much. The light was beaming in from the entrance of the stone-den, and Iamb prowled up to the entrance to get a better look. He stood with slitted eyes and glanced around below him.

The ground was covered in a few sideclaws **(5)** of white stuff, and the rising sun slanted off the white in a blinding curtain. Iamb was a little fearful, for he had never seen anything like this before in his life. Was it dangerous? Would it try to harm him or his brother? For starters, was it even _alive?_ The big Wolfos snuffed the air nervously, then reeled back as the unfamiliar scent of snow hit his nose. It was a strange, icy smell, somewhat like water, and somewhat like the sharp-sticks he had Bicca had discovered deep in the stone-den. He growled a challenge, but the snow did not rise to meet it. Iamb decided that snow was either cowardly or not alive. It bolstered his ego to say it was a coward, and he snorted derisively at the stuff.

"Why are you growling at the sun, brother?" Bicca's sleepy voice murmured from within the depths of the leaf-nest. Iamb turned. His brother was already getting up from the nest, shaking a few skeletal leaves from his hind paws. He trotted forwards and gave the smaller Wolfos a quick nuzzle of greeting.

Bicca truly was the smaller Wolfos now, but there was a kind of limberness in his small frame. For some unknown reason, Iamb had started growing at an incredible rate, doubling his size in a little more than a month. Bicca had grown steadily, but slowly, and now stood a full head shorter than his brother. Both of them were approaching adult size now, and some of their puppyish appearances were starting to fade away. Their eyes had started to take on a yellowish cast, typical of adult Wolfoses in these forests. Their snouts were long and narrow, no longer snubbed by cubhood. Bicca's sideclaws were nearly invisible now, his middle claws having grown to nearly five inches in length. Iamb's body was now the shape of every Wolfos that had ever roamed the Lost Woods: long-necked, broad-shouldered, thin-bellied, and stocky in the back end. Bicca was leaner and less muscular than his brother, with a gangly look that belied his inner grace and strength.

"There is something strange outside, brother," Iamb growled, his hackles half-risen. "I don't know what it means, though."

"Let's see what it is," Bicca barked, scratching behind his ears with a forepaw. The smaller Wolfos trotted after Iamb, bouncing from side to side as he walked. Iamb couldn't help a glimmer of affection. Bicca was his little brother, and he had charms that Iamb wished he did. They stopped a few tails away from the entrance, for together they were now too large to fit side by side in front of it. Bicca stepped forward, squinching up his eyes as Iamb had done. He sniffed, paused, sniffed, and shook his head.

"Do you know what it might be?" Iamb asked.

"I think it's water."

Iamb scoffed. "Water is see-through, not white."

"It smells like the rain, but colder."

"Is this what happens to cold rain, you think?" Iamb asked, his head cocked to the side. Bicca shrugged his shoulders, his lean muscles rippling beneath his thick, mottled pelt. "I wish we could get a closer look at it."

"The stone-den's roof doesn't cover the patch of land beside the river," Bicca pointed out. "We could look there." He crouched low in a play-bow, wagging his tail in the air. Iamb barely smothered a smile as he gave his brother's rump a light slap. Bicca yipped and darted towards the hallway, Iamb in hot pursuit.

The stone floor of the hall, its cobbles once lumpy and dusty, was now smooth and covered in dirt from months of heavy, muddy paws pounding over it. Only a few clean patches remained on the sides of the hall. The vines crisscrossing the ceiling were still there in full force, but their further spreading had been slowed considerably by the increasing cold. The two Wolfoses charged through the passageway with reckless abandon, both full of the puppyish glee of new discoveries. Their excited barks rang through the domelike room at the heart of the Temple. It was in this open space that Iamb took the lead, cutting nimbly around his brother and surging ahead with his powerful legs. Bicca snapped the air in disappointment at being overtaken, but he seemed to take it as a chance to prove himself better than his older brother. They barreled through the small door to the courtyard.

A thin sheet of glassy ice covered the river, and it threw back the morning light at double its strength. Iamb and Bicca carefully checked their wild run when they came through the open doorway. Iamb skidded back on his heavy paws, throwing up a wave of powdery snow as he slowly slid to a stop. Bicca, coming up behind him, flung himself to the ground. A single experience with ice on the small river had taught the two young Wolfoses that the water was _very _cold this time of year, and it took their lengthening pelts a _very _long time to dry. Their mad dash over, the brothers set about investigating the snow in their own ways.

Iamb snorted to himself with amusement as he heard Bicca frolic and paw at the white stuff. He didn't need to look to know his brother was learning through play, tossing his head and rolling around. The larger cub preferred to study things carefully, a sniff here, a prod there, a bark every so often to make sure nothing was going to bite him. Bicca had been right—the snow did smell like water, but much colder. There was something else to the scent as well, a metallic kind of bite that reminded him of the rusted tips of the sharp-sticks he'd found deep inside the Temple one day. Iamb drew back with a snort, a few clumps of burningly cold snow clinging to his dark nose. He rested a hefty paw on the surface of a nearby drift, steadily putting more and more weight behind it, until the drift swallowed his foot. The big pup lost his balance and fell onto his belly, a surprise that drew a quick yelp out of him. Bicca turned to look at him, his ears pricked with interest. Iamb pulled his paw free, shaking it vigorously and snarling.

It wasn't long until both Wolfoses, each engaged in their own separate search, snapped their heads up and pricked their ears. A soft, yet piercing, whistle drifted through the cold air towards them. The mother was calling them. The two snowy beasts shook off the worst of their clingy, white snow-coats and bounded back to the entrance of the stone-den. The mother had been visiting less and less frequently over the course of the past few months, sometimes up to a week passing between her visits. The two young Wolfoses accepted this as the way things would be. Had they been raised in the wild, their mother would have steadily distanced herself from her cubs bit by bit, until they were fully grown and ready to make their own place in the pack. Iamb and Bicca were rapidly approaching adulthood, and since their mother was so much smaller than they were, perhaps it was good that she did not visit as frequently as she had in the past.

The mother was waiting at the entrance of the stone-den, her paws held out in front of her to slow her wild cubs. As the weather grew colder, she had been growing her pelt thicker as well, sometimes so thick that she seemed to have grown. Iamb and Bicca started slowing down as soon as they burst through the doorway, and were fully stopped by the time they were halfway across the room. They padded forwards lightly, necks outstretched, noses twitching, tails thumping. Iamb reached the girl first, and whined as he leaned into her touch. On his hindpaws, he was nearly twice her height; on all fours, he was equal to it, but with so much more bulk that he looked even bigger. The mother scratched lovingly behind his ears, murmuring to him in the voice she saved for him and his brother. Bicca joined him quietly, and the two of them basked in the warm love of their mother. It would have been a remarkable sight for an outsider to see: a small girl pressed between two Wolfoses who could easily rip her apart, speaking calmly and patting their fur. But to Iamb and Bicca, as clearly of a different species as she was, she was their mother, to whom they could do no harm.

The mother's visit was brief, but it brought a warmth to the den that not even the most frigid of winter winds could take away. She had led them over to the leaf-nest and sat down, and there they had stayed. She had brought out a small lump of wood, and the two brothers had listened in rapture as sweet, soothing sounds filled the cold walls of the stone-den. It was bittersweet, though, for the sounds had an edge of unsettling sorrow to them that neither animal understood. When she had finished with her wood, the mother had carefully stowed it away underneath a layer of her fur and put her arms around both Wolfoses' necks. They had leaned in closer, licking and nuzzling, until warm drops had fallen on their furry faces. Water was falling from the mother's face as she held them tightly. There was nothing the cubs could do but lounge alongside her and offer their love. They licked her paws when she left and stood at the door to watch her until followed the slope of the ground out of their sight.

Bicca did not know that this would be the last time he ever saw her.

* * *

Saria leaned against one of the log tunnels, her face pale, her hands shaking from more than just the cold. With fumbling fingers, she took out her Ocarina and studied it carefully. The song she had played for the dying mother Wolfos had been unrehearsed, just strands of mellow notes that sounded good when played together. She hadn't given the song another thought, but now it returned to her full-force. Somehow, her fingers had played back every note from that ad-lib song, perfectly, unconsciously. As the simple melody rang through her mind, the Kokiri pieced together enough to realize it was a sad, simple song of farewell. It was then that she knew what she had to do. If Fate had led her fingers to play that particular song, then there was no other choice.

"Fael?" she whispered. The fairy hummed out from under the hood of the girl's cloak and hovered in front of her. "I think it's time."

"Time for what?" Fael asked.

"Time for me to let them go," the child replied simply. She was amazed at how calm she felt saying those words, how evenly they came out despite her breaking heart. She licked her chapped lips. "They're getting old enough to take care of themselves now, and I think I should let them be. Besides, if I don't, they'll just be my pets, pets that I don't keep in my home because they're too big." She sighed. "Their mother wouldn't want that for them. This is the closest I'll be able to get them to being wild Wolfoses."

"Are you sure?" Fael, despite her best efforts, had grown rather attached to the two cubs that had survived, especially little Bicca. "Saria, they're not pets. If they were your pets, you'd still be feeding them—and ever since they caught that Skulltula, you haven't brought them milk."

"My mind's made up. It's time for them to start living on their own." Saria snugged her hood down a little tighter as an icy wind gusted past. She took Fael into her mittened hands and held the pink fairy close to her body. "Come on, it looks like there might be more snow on the way. We should get back home before it starts up." And with that, she headed back towards the Kokiri village, casting one final glance over her shoulder at the entrance to the Sacred Forest Meadow. She was far enough away that she couldn't even see the entrance of the clearing where the Forest Temple stood. But she knew that somewhere behind those trees, within the ancient stone walls, two young Wolfoses—her adopted cubs—hunted, played, and slept. And beneath the stone Temple, the bones of their mother lay like a white sentinel. Her eyes smarted with tears.

_They're strong,_ she told herself. _They can make it on their own. They don't need me to pet their heads or watch them hunt. _She bit her lip. _They've grown up. _

Shaking herself back to the present, the Kokiri girl turned her back on the two young Wolfoses and walked home. After she closed the door, Saria stood in the doorway of her home, gazing around in a kind of daze. She recalled her first morning waking up with the newborn Wolfos cubs, and marveled at how everything seemed to have changed. The shelf by her large window, once laden with crystals and feathers, was now heavy with shed fangs (Wolfoses, she had discovered, have three sets of baby teeth to go through before their adult teeth come in, and each set is sharper than the last) and other mementos. The carved stick, a gift from Fado, had been thoroughly chewed apart by curious puppy jaws. A few bottles of milk, what remained of the crate that had nearly cost Saria her life, sat on the small table. The child hung up her cloak on the hook by the door and pulled off her boots. She set her mittens, hat, and scarf beside the fireplace to dry, and took a jar of the cubs' teeth from the shelf.

The Kokiri sat down on her bed and dumped a small amount of teeth out onto her covers. She held up one from the first shed set and studied it wordlessly. It was an eyetooth, bright white and about a centimeter **(6)** long. With light fingers, she brushed the inner edge; because it was a milk-tooth, there were none of the serrations that later sets of teeth would have. It was a gentle fang, if such a thing existed, one that would not even bruise a baby. Saria set it down and picked up a slightly larger fang, also an eyetooth, from the second set. It was the same shape, with faint suggestions of the knife-like edge a Wolfos's adult teeth had, and a slightly flatter inside edge. She picked up a third-set fang and looked at that one. It was what passed for a molar in carnivores, with spiked cusps that would scratch and, if clamped down hard enough, make a person bleed. There were definite serrations on the inside of the cusps, but they were nothing compared to those on the fourth fang she chose.

She had found the tooth embedded in the bones of one of the cubs' Temple meals, and assumed it belonged to Iamb. There was no decay to suggest that it had been weak in the jaw, but it had fallen out all the same. It was a premolar, a tooth just behind the eyeteeth, with too many cusps to be a molar, but too many to be a "fang." The girl silently ran her fingers over the high, outside cusp and pricked her finger on the tip. Almost immediately, she could see a small spot of red beneath her finger, suggesting that the tooth had pierced her skin with grim efficiency. Saria held the fang up to the light and sighed. This, _this_, was a true Wolfos's fang, lethal and sharp, dangerous outside the mouth as well as inside. Iamb and Bicca had mouths full of these now. If they wanted to, they could be killers. The girl gulped reflexively when she remembered the rabbit they had ripped apart. Yes...her little puppies were very dangerous. Not to her, but potentially to others.

"They'll be fine," Fael assured her warmly, misinterpreting Saria's gulp of fear as swallowing tears. "That Temple is the perfect place for them to live, and you know it. They love it there. You made the right decision."

Saria didn't feel like telling Fael the other reason she had decided to stop visiting the young Wolfoses. The strange feelings that the Temple instilled in her, the eerie feelings of belonging and homecoming, had been growing stronger and stronger as of late. The Kokiri had been almost glad when she realized the two cubs were old enough to support themselves, for it meant that she would no longer have to endure that unsettling welcome feeling. There was something about the Forest Temple that she didn't like, something that made her suspicious of what the future might hold.

As she was gathering the teeth back into their jar, the girl heard the slapping noise of someone being struck upside the head with a slushy snowball, followed by a yelp of pain. Without even looking, she knew the yelp belonged to Link, and the laughter that followed it belonged to Mido. With a sigh, Saria started to set the jar back up on the shelf, then hesitated. She had decided to let the two Wolfoses live on their own in the Temple—to let them go, in her own words. If she was truly going to let them go, she needed to put them out of her mind and live her old life again. Shaking her head, the child put the jar under her bed and put a small bowl of colored stones on the shelf in its place. Then, she put her winter clothes on again and stepped out into the snow, drawing in a breath to begin scolding Mido for throwing what he _knew_ would be a stinging slushball.

**(1) They're starting to grow up, which means they're beginning to think for themselves. This explains why their scenes will be in mostly one point of view from now on. **

**(2) For those who haven't noticed, this is the first time either of them has used the pronoun "I." As with the first note, they're growing up and starting to develop a sense of "self-vs-collective." In other words, they're beginning to realize that they are individuals, and that just because they're brothers doesn't make them the same Wolfos.**

**(3) If you've ever eaten crabs before, I think you'll know what I'm trying to describe. Skulltulas are like spiders, and I believe crabs have eight legs, too, right? Okay, so they're not the same, but you get the idea.**

**(4) Noon.**

**(5) Inches. A "sideclaw" is the length of their side claws, which are about an inch in length.**

**(6) Sorry for using metrics, but I didn't want to say "roughly a third of an inch."**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ri2****: Specifically, it's the last time that **_**Bicca**_** will see her. What does that mean? (sly grin)**

Saria thought that once she was gone, the two Wolfoses would forget her, and become independent and wild. This was not true in the least. They accepted her leaving, but they never forgot the soft touch of her hands, the gentle sound of her voice, her fresh, green scent...The years passed, and still the brothers knew that she was out there somewhere, perhaps nursing another litter. It didn't matter to them if she did not recognize them as her cubs. They would always know her as their mother, and they would always love her as that.

* * *

After two years of their independent life in the Forest Temple, Iamb and Bicca developed hyper-sensitivity to the Forest that surrounded their den, to a degree that members of their kind did not normally possess. Though they had never truly explored the Lost Woods, something in their blood told them that it was their land, and they prided themselves on knowing the forest's every smell and swish. If a sound awakened them, they knew almost instantly what it was and where it came from and how to respond. They could distinguish between the scream of dying prey and the shrill wails of the playful Skullkids. They knew to scent for storms when the wind gusted in the right direction. The brothers felt they knew all there was to know about their territory...except for one thing.

As their super-sense had developed, Bicca had been the first to notice the Darkness. The Darkness, as they called it, was a lingering, dark feeling, like an upset stomach that is sick enough to distract but not cause any real discomfort. It clung doggedly to the edges of their minds once they began to sense it, sometimes fading, never truly going away. At times it kept them from sleeping in either day or night, looming over their heads like a storm that has no intention of breaking. As they explored deeper and deeper into the Temple, they found that the Darkness grew stronger. Bicca was frightened by it; Iamb wanted to fight it away, kill it, if possible. But there was no fighting that which is only a feeling, and the two Wolfos brothers could only flex their claws in frustration and worry as the Darkness spread up from the darkest corners of the Forest Temple, and out from the roots of the trees of the Forest.

"Tell me, brother...Is the prey becoming more plentiful?"

Bicca looked up from the Skulltula he was in the middle of tearing apart. It was Iamb who had spoken. The big Wolfos was lounging across from his brother with a few Keese at his paws, his head tilted slightly to one side. Bicca looked down at his catch and thought carefully. He hadn't been paying attention before, but now he was quite sure that he and his brother were catching a large number of the monsters that lurked in the stone-den...and more seemed to be taking their places at an unusually high rate. Out of the entirety of the stone-den, their hunting range was comparatively small, but it was always full of things to hunt and eat.

"I think you're right, brother," he replied slowly. "I wonder if it has anything to do with the Darkness that has been spreading." He pawed the Skulltula, flipping it onto its back. The glow had died from its scarlet eyes in death, but there was something unsettling there—a sort of promise that more of the vicious spiders would follow it. "Still, it can't be all bad. More prey means more food for us."

Iamb sighed. "Yes, I suppose so." Then he went back to eating, leaving Bicca to feel as though he had missed some critical point his brother had been trying to make. He thought fast and on his paws, and Iamb's long and complex trains of thought were often lost on him. He sensed that this was another point where he and his brother differed: Iamb had a kind of deep and brooding intelligence, whereas he, Bicca, had a light and clever brain that kept him on his toes and darting ahead of everyone else.

The younger Wolfos scrabbled briefly for something to talk about, if only to distract himself from the nagging Darkness at the outskirts of his brain. "You'll never guess what I saw when I was walking through the picture-hall," he barked finally. Iamb frowned.

"I thought we agreed we would only go to places like that together," he growled. Bicca shrugged uncomfortably.

"I didn't want to wake you. You were taking a nap, remember? Anyway, I was down in the picture-hall, and the picture _moved!_" Bicca's tail wagged hopefully as Iamb's frown lifted. The big Wolfos looked interested.

"It moved? How?" he asked.

"Well, when I walked up the stairs, the picture was above the stairs—it was the picture with the blue Man, that one—but when I walked towards it, the picture left the frame!" Bicca explained excitedly. "I looked up the other stairs, and the picture was in the frame up there! Isn't that strange, brother?"** (1)**

Iamb's tail slapped the stone floor twice. "I'd like to see this," he murmured. "I don't think I've ever seen the picture move before. Are you sure it did?"

"As sure as I am that you have four paws and a tail," Bicca told him confidently. Iamb nodded and ripped another wing off one of his Keese. He chewed the leathery appendage with some difficulty, grunting warily each time he felt the grinding crunch of a breaking bone. Bicca understood his discomfort with chewing bones, as Iamb had spent nearly a moon in pain when a splinter of bone had found its way into the bare spot in his jaw. Eventually, the piece had worked its way loose, but the experience had left Iamb very hesitant to chew the bones of his prey.

"I was going to check it out again tonight," Bicca continued. "If you like, you can come with me and see for yourself. That way, we'll be together, like you say we should." He hoped that Iamb would accompany him on the second trip through the picture-hall. Seeing the moving portrait had scared him a little at first, but once the initial shock had worn off, he had found it to be a wonderful game. He had spent at least an hour darting up and down the staircases, chasing the moving image from frame to frame with puppyish glee. Bringing up Iamb's order that they should not explore the stone-den alone until they understood what the Darkness was, was a perfect way to get him to come along for the adventure.

Iamb took the bait Bicca had thrown him, and swallowed it in a single gulp. The larger Wolfos's eyes gleamed in the dim twilight, a bright and moony gold that sent chills down Bicca's spine. He had noted with great interest that as they had grown up, their eyes had completely changed color. Even his own two-toned eyes had become a uniform shade of yellow ochre.

"Finish eating," Iamb ordered, rising to his paws with a movement that was both heavy and graceful. "I don't have much appetite for these bony nuisances, anyway." He gave the small pile of Keese a kick with his hindpaw, scattering their dark bodies like leathery shadows. "When you're done, we'll go to the picture-hall and see this moving picture."

Bicca nodded and hurriedly thrust his muzzle into the Skulltula's cracked shell to lap out the white, sour meat. He felt Iamb's eyes burning the back of his neck and shuddered. Maybe it was the annoying tug of the Darkness at his mind that made Iamb so brisk and snappy, but Bicca was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable around his brother. He abandoned the half-empty carapace and trotted after his older brother; he wasn't finished eating yet, but something told him that if he kept Iamb waiting much longer, the burly Wolfos's temperament would not improve. Iamb seemed to have calmed down a little as he licked his brother's muzzle gently, removing scraps of meat and the Skulltula's body juices. Bicca returned the lick, and the two of them set off towards the stone hallway together.

It had taken a while, but Bicca had finally caught up to Iamb in height somewhat. Though still noticeably shorter, he was much larger than the mother would have remembered him being. The only thing that was unchanged was his lean physique, for though he was almost as tall as Iamb, he was still much lighter and less muscular. There was strength in his slender body, though, and he was just as capable of butting open closed doors with his shoulder as Iamb was. He had a special trick that made it easier for him, and that was to shove his shoulder under the knob and roll it backwards. Often times, he could heard the latch of the knob slide away from the door, and in those cases the door would open with a light push.

He used this trick to open the door to the picture-hall, leaving Iamb to stand in silent envy of his clever moves. The two Wolfoses padded in quietly, their eyes glowing slightly in the low light, and made their way up the stairs. The staircase was wide enough to accommodate them both at once, although Bicca moved slower to allow Iamb to walk a little ahead of him. This, he knew, was a surefire way to keep his brother happy: Submitting passively before the other Wolfos asserted himself. "Watch the picture, brother," Bicca whispered, and saw his brother's ears twitch. He could see the frame peeking above his brother's broad back and noted that the image was still there. Within a few steps, Iamb would reach that critical spot, and then the picture would laugh from far away and vanish. The younger Wolfos's ears pricked expectantly, ready to catch the whooshing sound of its laughter.

The image vanished with a haunting cackle, and suddenly Iamb raced forwards with a thunderous bark. The gray fur on his shoulders bristled sharply away from his body, and the muscles in his shoulder bulged as he struck out at the empty frame. Bicca yelped and darted up around his brother, howling excitedly and prancing back and forth. He couldn't understand why the big Wolfos had been so struck by the vanishing picture, but he figured he should help with the noise. Iamb whirled around, his eyes narrowed furiously.

"The Darkness is behind that picture, brother—I could smell it!" he snapped, tossing his head in agitation. "It was alive and pulsing! Something is coming!" He crouched on the stone floor, muscles rolling and bunching as he fought for control. Bicca watched in silent horror. Had the Darkness really reached a strength where it could be _smelled?_ It was one thing to feel something, say an emotion, like fear. It was easy to _feel_ fear, yes, but you could control your face and body so that none but the highly observant would see it. But once that fear reached a point where it could be _smelled_...forget about hiding it. Anyone with half a nose would know how you felt, and at that point, the fear had usually grown too great for you to hide it behind a calm face. If Iamb had smelled the Darkness...Bicca shuddered.

Bicca could not find words to tell his brother that they would be safe. His mouth would not say _We're stronger than we used to be, brother._ He could not say _If something comes, we will fight it off. The stone-den is ours._ All he could do was crouch beside his brother and lick his cheek silently. After a time, Iamb's tense body relaxed, and he slid onto his belly on the stone floor. Bicca sat beside him, nosing him and whining sympathetically.

The picture cackled distantly, and for once the silly-minded Bicca grew serious. He reared up onto his hindpaws and howled with all the breath he had. His long claws snapped out from their tucked position under his paws and struck the empty frame, knocking it askew and denting the side. The lean Wolfos half-crouched, his long forelegs dangling limply at his sides, his head low, his back hunched. There was a glow in his yellow eyes that the dim light of the picture-hall could not swallow, a feral burn that showed the dark beast that lurked behind his light heart. An unusual emotion filled him: Hatred. Suddenly he was overflowing with disgust and _hatred_ for the Darkness that was slowly filling the stone-den and the woods around it. The back of his throat burned bitterly and he let loose a shattering howl that thundered through the hallway. He felt Iamb rise up beside him, and the big Wolfos laid one of his forepaws overtop Bicca's—_Like the Wolfoses in the carving_, he thought, wondering if his older brother remembered how much he loved the carving. Together, they filled the dark passageway with their voices, howling and snarling at the Darkness. They would not be driven back, they snarled. The stone-den was their territory, and nothing, not even the intangible Darkness, could make them abandon it.

When the last of their howls had faded from the air, the whole hall seemed to be ringing with their power. For the first time in years, their minds were free of the clingy Darkness, and the feeling was incredible. Iamb tackled his brother, knocking the breath out of him, and started to lick his face. Bicca's tail slapped the dusty floor, sending up clouds of the ancient powder. They wrestled on the ground like cubs, nipping ears and tugging fur, yipping joyously. If nothing else, the picture-hall was theirs once more, and that was enough to send them into throes of ecstacy. When the sun began to rise and they returned to the front room to sleep, the Darkness would latch onto their minds once more. They would feel its terrible, needling pangs, but their pain would be soothed by the knowledge that they had driven the Darkness back once—and if they had done it once, they could certainly do it again.

* * *

The Deku Tree was dead, but that hadn't stopped Saria and a few of the other Kokiri from sleeping at his cold roots. Some of the Kokiri slept with the Tree because they believed that someday, his spirit would return and he would banish the monsters to the Outside. For most of the Forest children, though, it was a way to escape the frightening changes that were taking place just outside their village, in the Lost Woods. The Great Deku Tree's hollow, spiritless trunk was rooted on the far side of the Forest, the furthest away form the Lost Woods as you could get in the village. Those that ventured into the dense trees came back bruised and terrified out of their minds, babbling stories of Deku Scrubs gone mad and huge monsters with spears—if they came back at all. One of them, a boy called Kory, had been missing for almost a month, and his fairy had not been seen, either.

Without its Guardian, the Kokiri Forest was quickly turning into a haunted place, where the ghosts of children played timidly in the shadows, ready to dart into their houses at the first sign of danger. The days seemed to be getting shorter, even though it was in the middle of summer, and with less light to grow in, much of the plant life was beginning to wither. In its place, thorny and dark vegetation was starting to sprout, plants that sometimes hissed when stepped on by careless boots. Sounds— bellows and shrieks, howls and cackles—could be heard from the entrance to the Lost Woods, growing louder with each passing day. The Forest was quickly becoming a dangerous place to live, and the Kokiri began to wonder if it would soon be the end of them all. With the village getting darker and the Lost Woods full of monsters, the only safe place seemed to be the Outside—and that was certainly no option.

As the days grew darker and darker, Saria found herself thinking more about the Forest Temple. She wondered if it would be safe to take everyone there, to be guarded jealously by her two adopted cubs. It had to be safer than anywhere else in the Forest, but her heart dropped when she realized that no one would want to follow her there. The journey would be dangerous, and at any rate, Iamb and Bicca were sure to have forgotten her by now. She quickly put the plan out of her mind, but she could not rid herself of thoughts of the Forest Temple. The feeling of welcome that had once unnerved her now drew her, tugging at her heart like anxious hands. The Kokiri girl wanted nothing more than to step inside that cool, stone sanctuary and into its welcome arms. She felt sick, watching the Forest die around her and seeing all her friends reduced to mere shadows of their former selves. There was also a clinging feeling of fear that hung onto the back of her mind with vicious tenacity, a feeling that grew heavier with each passing day. She felt as though the Temple held the answers, but she hated to leave her friends alone when they needed her.

Dawn had not broken when Saria sat up in a cold sweat. She glanced around with suspicious speed, wondering what had torn her away from sleep so quickly. The morning light was pale, weak, and gray. More light came from the sleeping fairies huddled up against their chosen child! The girl stood up slowly, pulling on the boots that lay beside her makeshift bed at the Deku Tree's roots. Fael hummed up softly behind her, causing her to jump and whirl around. The pink fairy glowed apologetically, and Saria took her into a cupped hand as she walked through the misty daybreak. It took her a few minutes to realize that the air was filled with ear-ringing silence. The snarls and shouts from the Lost Woods were quieted. The child stepped out of the Deku Tree's clearing and out into the village.

Her feet led her first to Link's house, where she stopped and stared up at the empty treehouse. It didn't seem like it had been a year since he had left the Forest, but it had really been twice that. Saria sighed quietly. Two years since a blue fairy who called herself Navi had appeared to the boy and attached herself to him. Two years since the Deku Tree had died, killed, Link said, by a parasite eating away at his very heart and spirit. Two years since Saria had parted with one of her treasured Ocarinas and taught Link a song that would keep them together no matter where he went. Two years since the Forest had started to die. A little disloyally, the girl wondered if Link's leaving the Forest had been the real cause of its upset, as Mido repeatedly claimed. Fael seemed to sense this thought and glowed hotly in Saria's hand, causing the girl to yelp and toss her into the air. The pain jolted her back to reality, and the Kokiri smiled wryly and kept walking, rubbing her stinging hand on her tunic.

She stopped again in front of the Lost Woods, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth. Over the past few days, Saria's thoughts of the Forest Temple had reached the point of obsession. She could think of nothing but what might lie deep within its stony passages—what questions, what answers she could find if she looked. "When the monsters stop their growling, it's almost like everything's back to normal, isn't it?" Fael mused quietly, interrupting the child's confused thoughts. Saria looked up at her fairy friend sadly and nodded. "But it's not healthy to think so much about the past," Fael continued, and there was an edge to her words. "Instead of wishing that we have what we used to have, we should think about where we are now and work with what we have."

"Why would you say that, Fael?"

"Isn't it obvious? You can't stop thinking about that stupid Temple—it's all I hear when I listen to your thoughts! Saria, you can't change the past. You left Iamb and Bicca to care for themselves—"

Saria drew back. "That isn't why I think about it!" she said indignantly. Her voice rose into a half-yell, a volume that echoed through the still Forest like thunder. As if this was a cue, the sounds from within the Lost Woods returned in full force. Saria dropped down to the ground limply and started to cry. Everything was ruined, and it was all her fault—somehow, she knew it had to be her. The Forest was dying, and before long Kory wouldn't be the only missing Kokiri. She dug her fingers into the patchy grass beneath her and sobbed. That awful, dark feeling was coming back, and—Coming back? It had left? The girl raised her eyes, stunned out of her tears. She turned to Fael. "There's something out there," she whispered with vicious certainty. "Something in the Temple that lashed out against the darkness...and the darkness lost." The lost glimmer returned to her blue eyes at the thought of something striking back against the spreading shadows.

"What is it?" Fael asked excitedly. "Can you tell?"

Saria shook her head. "No, but something tells me that whatever it was wants me in the Temple with it." She started to get back up again, her hands in tight fists as if preparing to strike the dark power themselves. Fael landed on her shoulder and glowed brightly in the darkness of the morning. Something tingled in the air around them, some bright power that seemed to shine a light around them. The darkness in the log tunnel actually receded a bit. Saria turned and nodded to her fairy. The two of them were ready to step into the Lost Woods together, to start fighting back against the shadows—

"Where are you _going?!_"

Saria faltered with one foot in the air, then turned slowly to see Mido standing behind her, his hands on his hips. The boy was tapping a foot impatiently against the ground and shaking his head slowly. There was a hunted look in his blue eyes, a look that every Kokiri seemed to wear these days. Saria spread her hands in front of her pleadingly. "Mido, I know what I'm doing. If you let me—"

"No. I'm not gonna let you get yourself killed, Saria," Mido interrupted angrily. "The Lost Woods are dangerous. Besides, we need you. You've got this...You kinda...There's this...around you..." He started to falter and stammer, his objections eventually fading into silence. Saria took that as her cue to leave, but no sooner had she started walking than Mido snagged her arm and pulled her back. "You can't leave!!" he shouted, and his words blasted the dying Forest like a violent explosion. Saria flinched away from him, but his grip on her arm was unbreakable. His fairy, Suan, burned bright red, matching her partner's flaring anger with a burst of her own. Saria twisted and pulled as she tried to free herself, but Mido only held her tighter. His grasp was beginning to border on pain when the Forest was lit with a burst of bright, furious light. The two Kokiri fell away from each other, and those who had awoken to their shouting match dropped back as well.

Saria opened her eyes to see a tall, portly figure standing between her and Mido. It was obviously the shape of an adult man, but there was something surrounding him that suggested he was more than an adult. He was dressed in a long brown robe with sleeves that covered his hands, and a thick-looking, darker brown surcoat that was woven with patterns. His hair was shock-white, and stood out from his face like jutting stone. His face was stern, but Saria could see a glimmer of gentle affection behind his icy gaze. Silver light radiated from his body, gentle enough to look at, but mysteriously bright enough to shed light over the entire village. His eyes locked onto Saria's, and in a gentle, deep voice, he murmured, "It is time, Sagechild."

Saria gazed up at him in awe, her mind hard at work connecting his words to some deeply-buried thought. She mouthed soundlessly, and the shining man knelt beside her and chuckled. "It matters not if you cannot remember all that you must know," he told her. "I only wish I could tell it to you, but it is for you to figure out on your own." His voice grew more serious. "The Gate has been opened, and the one we feared has broken through. You must—"

Saria barely heard was he was saying. Her mind was racing like a rabbit through the shadows of the Lost Woods. Her heart throbbed painfully with every rapid beat, and she felt it would surge free from her chest at any second. She started to feel lightheaded and wavered, falling back against the man's outstretched arm. He carefully leaned her back upright, and there she sat, dizzy and confused. Who was this man...How had he managed to enter the Forest...Why did he call her—!!

Sickeningly, the missing piece of the puzzle clicked into place, and Saria understood everything. She remembered one of the Deku Tree's old stories, a story about the creation of Hyrule. There were three Goddesses, and at each of their hands were two...two Sages. Nayru, with the Sages of Water and Light. Din, with the Sages of Fire and Shadow. Farore, with the Sages of Spirit...and _Forest_. Sagechild, he had called her, the Child Sage, the only one of the six who would never grow past her childhood. And now, with the man's bright arm around her shoulders, Saria opened her eyes and saw past the shadows and into the light. She saw a Forest that had been neglected by its care-giver and was slowly dying. She saw children who were lost without someone to guide them, someone they could believe in. She saw the last stronghold against the darkness that threatened to destroy them, and she knew it was her destiny.

The man said only one more sentence. "What is your name, Sagechild?"

The girl drew in a deep breath. There was a new light in her eyes, a cool and confident fire that burned a clear, summer-sky blue. There was light within her, and her smooth skin visibly glowed with it. She looked like a shooting star, a brilliant blaze of hope in the darkness of the night. The Forest children leaned in, unconsciously hanging on her every word, their eyes wide with anticipation. The girl spoke. "My name is Saria," she answered, and at her words, the children below laughed, for it was an answer they had known all along.

But the stout man was not laughing. He stepped back as Saria got to her feet. "Mido, I know what's causing all our problems," she told him firmly. "I'm going into the Lost Woods to try and solve it. Guard these Woods until I get back. Don't let anyone else in. Do you understand?" Mido nodded dumbly, and Saria turned away. The tall man stepped back and let her enter the Lost Woods alone. She walked without fear into the shadows, the glow of her body forcing them back.

* * *

Once she was out of sight of Mido and the other Kokiri, Saria broke into a terrified run. **(2)** Her legs blurred as she raced through the dark forest, each foot pounding the ground so strongly that the grass was blown away. Her blood felt like ice as it traveled through her body, pumping her full of cold fear. She sped like a silver comet through the tangled trees. At one point, she actually ran _through _a Moblin, and the burly beast was left rubbing its stomach stupidly as she shot away from it. Fear lent her legs speed, and when combined with the power of a Hyrulian Sage, she ran faster than mortal eyes could follow. She may have been the Sagechild, but her small body was no less powerful than even the muscular Sage of Fire's. In fact, it seemed even stronger, because all that power was concentrated into the body of a young child. Though she blazed through the darkened woods at an unbelievable speed, the journey to the Forest Temple seemed to take eons.

There, in the safety of the Sacred Forest Meadow, Saria collapsed on the ground in front of the bones of the mother Wolfos. She was shaking with fear and disgust. Why did _she _have to be the Sagechild? There were plenty of other Kokiri who were braver and smarter than she was. Sure, maybe they hadn't raised a litter of Wolfos cubs, or stood up to a Moblin, or, or, or—or maybe they weren't the ones that all the other Kokiri turned to when things got rough, or the unofficial "nurses", or, or, or...The girl gave up, shaking her head. There was no use trying to fight Fate. With resignation, she stood up.

Her eyes locked on the old skeleton at her feet, looking at it in a new light. The bones had come to mean a lot to her over the years. They were the remains of a peaceful sleeper, a protective mother...They stood as a symbol of faithfulness, strength, love, determination. They were steadfast, and never moved. Saria laid her hands atop the skull. Something in the back of her mind, some hidden voice, told her that she would need to make a marker for the Hero, something that he would be drawn towards when he came to free her Temple. Her hands glowed bright green, and in a flash of light as green as springtime, the Wolfos skeleton had become a large, flat platform made of bone-white, flawless marble. The Sagechild stepped back to admire her work briefly before she stepped inside the Temple.

**(1) Remember how you had to shoot the paintings of two of the Poe sisters to get them to come out? I'm pretty sure it was the Blue and the Red one that did that. Then you had to solve the puzzle for the Green one, and the Purple would appear after you killed the other three. **

**(2) If you use Saria's Song after she's awakened as a Sage, she'll tell you that she was afraid at first.**


	12. Chapter 12

It was dark inside the Forest Temple, darker than the woods outside it had been, and for a moment, Saria was worried that the spreading evil had claimed her stone sanctuary. Then she saw Iamb and Bicca—it had to be them, because there was no was any other Wolfoses could have gotten up to the entrance—curled up on a nest of leaves. Their muscular flanks rose and fell in sleepy snores. Her heart glowed with love for the two pups she had left here years ago to grown and live on their own. They were big now, probably three times her height standing on their hind legs. She reached out a hand to stroke Bicca's thick, mottled pelt, only to be stopped by a soft whisper: _Leave the Temple Guardians to rest. They will need it._

"Temple Guardians?" Saria repeated, turning around to trace the voice. "Who are you?" She held Fael close and shivered. For a few minutes, the air inside the Temple was filled with the warm smells of growing spring. The voice came again, this time sounding apologetic and soothing.

_Child, I am nothing to fear. Would it be less frightening to you if I took a solid form?_

"Y-yes. Please." A stream of liquid green light wove itself around Saria's body, then soared up to the ceiling of the Temple. It swirled there briefly, then swooped down with sudden speed and force. It appeared to be pouring itself into an invisible mold, filling it with light in the shape of a slender woman.

There was a flash, and when Saria opened her eyes, she found herself face to face with the most beautiful woman she could have imagined. She was dressed in a flowing gown of mint green, with long sleeves that widened at the end so that her small hands were nearly lost in them. Her hair, also pale green, fell neatly down her back, restrained only by a thin band that put Saria in mind of the one she was currently wearing. Her eyes reminded the Sagechild of Iamb's eyes, only much brighter, without pupils or whites. Her skin glowed with pure and golden light that, like Saria's silver, seemed to come from inside of her. She was tall and very shapely. _Is this better?_ she asked in a voice that came from far away. Saria nodded gratefully, glad that the voice had taken on, without complaint, a shape she could relate to. _I'm glad. It's been many years since I saw you last, Saria._

"I can't say as that I remember seeing you," the girl said meekly. The woman laughed softly, like the chiming of small, beautiful bells.

_I doubted you would remember me,_ she said. _You see, you were even younger when we last met, and it has been many years since then. _The woman paused. _You still do not remember me, do you?_ At this, Saria was forced to shake her head, for she couldn't even call up a flicker of memory. The woman sighed, not unhappily, and continued, _I am Farore, the Goddess of Courage._

Saria's jaw dropped. She was talking to one of the _Goddesses?_ She wanted to be ashamed for asking Farore to change her shape, but found that she could feel no negative emotion. In legends, Farore consulted with the Sages of Spirit and Forest; as the Sage of Forest, Saria was one of the Goddess's chief advisors. In the presence of her Mistress, the girl could feel only awe and happiness.

"Lady Farore," she began, smiling inwardly at how natural the words felt, "I want to ask you something. What is happening in these woods? Why is darkness spreading over my Forest?" The possessive pronoun felt right, too. But was it really _her_ Forest? Farore sighed and seated herself on a large rock, her gown whispering over her golden skin like fresh summer leaves.

_Sadly, Sagechild, the darkness is not just over your Forest,_ she answered. _All of Hyrule is covered in the same dark power. The Gates of the Sacred Realm were opened by the chosen Hero, and sadly, the dark man from the Desert managed to enter through them. He obtained the Triforce, the sacred symbol of Our power, and with its power, he is transforming the world into his own shadowed paradise._

Saria leaned back against the wall, folding her arms over her chest in thought. "And what is my role in all this?" she asked.

Farore swept her shining arm around, throwing light across the entire room for an instant. Saria gazed in awe at the true beauty she had never noticed before. Though covered in snarled-up vines, the walls were smooth and very appealing to her. The old and twisted trees were now rugged survivors that had stood the test of time. Her eyes flicked curiously up at the carving of the two Wolfoses above the door. "What's that?" she asked abruptly, the question jerked out of her by surprise.

Farore laughed. _One question at a time, Sagechild,_ she admonished gently. _Your role in this is simple—You are to protect what light remains in this Temple from the spreading evil. You are the Sage of Forest...This is your domain. It will respond to your presence and return as the sanctuary it once was._

"How can I protect it?" Saria asked, coming away from the wall to kneel beside Farore. The Goddess laid a warm hand on her shoulder, and for a moment, the child's silvery inner light became golden. "I'm just...a kid."

_You are a Hyrulian Sage,_ Farore corrected her. _Nothing more, nothing __less__. You have the power to seal the Temple and prevent the further spread of evil into the Kokiri Forest. You must seal yourself into these very walls, become a part of the Temple itself, and there you must sleep until the Hero comes to free you._

" 'Free' me? I'm going to be a captive in my own Temple?"

_Yes, unfortunately._ Farore gave the girl's shoulder a gentle squeeze, and the warmth of her touch burned out any fear and hopelessness that remained in her body. _But you must act quickly, to stop the darkness before it overtakes any more of your Forest!_

Saria nodded and started towards the hall that would lead her deep into the heart of her Temple. At the door, she hesitated and turned back. Farore was still there, watching her with her green, Wolfosy eyes. "Iamb...and Bicca," she began softly, pointing to the sleeping Wolfoses. "What will happen to them?"

_Ah, the Guardians?_ Farore asked. _Do not worry for them. Rauru will tell them all they need to know. They will serve and protect the Forest Temple until their death. It is their home, their life, their Temple. They will never abandon it or you. They will be safe._

Heartened by this, Saria nodded and opened the door. As she ran down the hallways and stairs, Farore's voice echoed once more through her ears, _And Saria? They have never forgotten you._

* * *

"Who are you?" Iamb growled suspiciously, the fur on his shoulders and back beginning to rise in stiff sheets. Beside him, Bicca had taken up an equally aggressive stance. Both Wolfoses had their claws out and ready to tear should their mysterious visitor decide to fight.

"I am Rauru, the Sage of Light," the Man replied calmly. He made a gesture similar to the mother's signal for 'sit down.' Bicca and Iamb, out of habit, obeyed, dropping back down on their nest of leaves. The only things they did not relax were their hackles and their claws. They eyed the Man with curious anger. "You have no need to fear me. I fight alongside your mother."

Bicca's fur fell back down in surprise. "You know the mother?" he asked eagerly. His tail began to wag, rustling leaves to and fro until Iamb slapped a forepaw over it. "Where is she? Is she coming to see us?"

"Shut up!" Iamb spat, and Bicca flinched silently. Turning back to the Man, Iamb continued, "Why should we trust you? The Darkness is spreading through our stone-den like wildfire. The pictures in the picture-hall reek of the shadows, and they've started to move. How can we be sure you aren't part of the Darkness?"

The Man smiled gently and spread his forepaws wide in innocence. "If you don't trust me, I understand. Evil nagging at one's thoughts day and night can make anyone suspicious," he said. He held out his paw to them. "Get my scent and tell me if I smell like your Darkness. Your noses have never failed you before, am I correct?"

Iamb studied the outstretched paw and gave it a sniff. Immediately, he recoiled from the overpowering scents that he found there, rubbing his nose. What he had found was not the rotting stench of the Darkness...but rather, the bright and powerful scent of the Light. The Man smelled like _light!_ Light and Life! Bicca, startled by his brother's reaction, gave the Man a sniff of his own. His tail started wagging again, faster than before. The younger Wolfos leaned forwards and butted his head affectionately against the Man's large stomach. Iamb followed his lead, but with a little more restraint. The big Wolfos padded forwards and leaned his side ever so slightly against the Man's body. The Man gave them both a gentle pat on the head, rubbing their ears as the mother once had. "I take it I don't smell like the Darkness," he mused. The brothers whined and pressed closer. "It's heartening to see you take so quickly to the powers of the Goddesses, for that is what you must stand for now, and it will not be easy."

"What is happening?" Iamb asked. "Why, Man—why is the forest full of Darkness?"

The Man knelt down and took the Wolfoses' heads in his paws, looking them square in the eyes. His voice was serious as he spoke: "One who was born of the Darkness is spreading it. There is Darkness all over the world, Guardians, and your den, the Forest Temple, is one of the few strongholds against it."

"Why do you call us Guardians?" Iamb asked. "We guard nothing. We only hunt and protect our territory, this Temple, as you call it."

"You are the Temple Guardians," the Man explained, "the beasts of legend who protect this sacred Temple. Without your protection, evil would have pervaded through this entire sanctuary—but because you have defended it, the spread of the dark power has slowed."

"How did we defend it?" Bicca queried.

The Man smiled gently. "When you began to hunt the monsters that were multiplying in the Temple, you were carefully controlling the spread of the Darkness," he replied. "You may not have realized it, and it may not seem so, but in the future, all that you do here contributes to stopping the source of the evil from furthering its spread." He stood back up again. "The time has come to put you to the test. It will be your duty to safeguard this sacred place, and the Sage who is sealed within it."

"Who is this Sage?" Iamb asked.

"You would know her as your mother," the Man answered calmly. "If you feel you cannot protect this entire Temple, then at the very least, protect her. If she were to fall into the hands of evil, there is no telling what could happen." Iamb and Bicca nodded seriously, loosing their claws and baring their fangs.

"None will enter our Temple while we still breathe," Iamb snarled. "Have no fear, Man—the Temple will be safe, and so will our mother." Bicca growled in agreement, and the Man gave them both a warm nod. He hesitated, then held up a paw.

"There is one who must enter the Temple," he told them. "If you are true to your purpose and remain uncorrupted by the Darkness"—at this, the Wolfoses flattened their ears, outraged that he could even _suggest _such a thing—"then you will recognize him when he appears. He is the Hero of Time, and he will free your mother and the Temple from the evil." He looked from one to the other. "Do you understand?"

"I swear on my life," Iamb responded.

"And I on mine," Bicca added. The Man looked pleased.

"The Fate of the Forest Temple—no, the world—rests on your shoulders now," he said. "All of Hyrule depends on your protection of this holy place." He laid his paws on their heads, a little more firmly on Bicca's because he was closer, and a weak jolt ran through their bodies. The Man sighed. "I've given you what little protection I could offer. I'm sorry it wasn't more—with this much shadow pressing around, it is difficult to bring out the power of light. If you are true, then my blessing will make your task all the easier." He started towards the entrance. "I must leave you now. Farewell, Guardians."

There was a blast of silver-white light that the brothers flinched away from, throwing paws in front of their eyes to shield them from the brightness. Then the Temple became its normal dark, stony self. The Man was gone from the Temple, and all that was left was the fiery, hot smell of the Light. Iamb turned to his brother, and the two of them nodded seriously to each other.

* * *

Iamb and Bicca did not speak much more of the Man's appearance. In fact, as the days turned into weeks, they barely talked at all. Each paced in front of the Temple entrance lost in his own thoughts. This became part of their daily routine. Wake up, scrounge around for leftovers from last night's kill, pace in front of the door—they even took _shifts_—, pause for a quick rest, hunt a bit more, and, if night had fallen by then, sleep. It was a life of diligent guarding, and the knowledge that they had been chosen to protect the Temple made them all the more enthusiastic about it, but sadly, it was a boring life. Bicca found himself longing for the simpler days, the days before the mother had left and the Man had proclaimed them Temple Guardians. He wanted to forget about pacing and growling at shadows, and spend his time frolicking with his brother, like they had always done in the past. But as week after week wore on, the younger Wolfos thought less and less about his days as a carefree pup.

The Moon had shifted through one of its cycles completely and was preparing to start the next before the two Wolfoses received another visitor; the received three, in fact. **(1)** They came in the evening, when the brothers were lounging just inside the Temple entrance with bellies full of Skulltula meat. Bicca was the first to sense their arrival, for suddenly his nose became full of the dead reek of the Darkness. The lean Wolfos leapt to his paws, hackles rising stiffly along the black stripe running down his spine. His gold eyes narrowed as a low rumble started in his chest. Iamb looked up at him with mild interest for a moment before he, too, caught a whiff of the approaching Darkness. The larger beast shouldered his brother aside defensively and sat blocking the entrance of the Forest Temple. Bicca peered over his shoulder curiously, his eyes locked on the figure standing at the edge of the clearing.

It was a Man, tall and muscular, his dark skin radiating the hot, dry smell of the sun-bathed region from which he hailed. Much of his body was covered in gleaming beetle-black armor, and a long cape trailed behind him like a second shadow. Hovering beside him were two smaller Men, although their scents proclaimed them as being female and quite old. One's head flickered and crackled with something that smelled like wild, hot fear. The other's glinted and gave off the cold smell of winter. The threesome were talking together, but it was difficult to understand their words. They spoke with a strange, hard accent that neither brother could quite figure out. The Wolfoses glanced quickly at each other before retreating quietly to the shadows behind the two trees to watch.

"The Forest Temple...the first of many that will soon be mine," a deep voice murmured, sending shudders down Bicca's spine. Now that the Man was closer, he could understand more of his words. And frankly, he didn't like what he was hearing. A quick look at Iamb told him that his brother felt the same. The Temple was still the stone-den in the back of their minds, which made it doubly theirs. Iamb flicked his tail down, signaling that they should hold their positions for now.

The three Men walked through the Temple entrance without any trouble at all, but Bicca writhed with the desire to _give_ them trouble. His side of the Temple was lit with shifting, bright light, and his nostrils stung with the hot smell of fire. The mottled beast pressed himself closer to the tree in an effort to stay hidden. The small, floating Man that was nearest to him spoke now. "Only the best for you," she squealed. Bicca flattened his ears to try and block out her voice, a voice that sounded at best like claws dragging down a sheet of slate. The Man laughed, a muffled noise that quickly became loud and ringing. At the peak of his laugh, Iamb's tail shot straight up into the air, and the Wolfoses leaped out as one in front of the Men. They crouched, fur bristling, fangs bared, ready to fight to the death to defend their home. The Man stopped laughing and furiously uttered a few words that neither Wolfos had ever heard before.

"Are they...?" the Man asked his floating companions, who both nodded disappointedly. The dark-skinned man knelt down and reached out a hand to the brothers. They sniffed and snarled suspiciously. "Is this the kind of welcome you give me?" he began again, his voice taking on a softer edge.

_The silver Man said we shouldn't let anyone in,_ Iamb snapped. Bicca nodded. They flashed their fangs all the more. The Man hesitated and turned to his companions. The ice-headed Man zoomed down lower, until her beak-like nose was almost touching Iamb's muzzle. The burly male drew back, wrinkling his nose distastefully. _Besides, they all smell like the Darkness..._

The ice-headed Man relayed this message to the dark Man, who nodded thoughtfully. "But what if we've been fighting the Darkness?" he asked, spreading his hands out harmlessly. "We're your friends, Guardians, and we've come to congratulate you on keeping this Temple so safe."

_The silver Man said we shouldn't let anyone in,_ Bicca repeated, clawing the ground in agitation. He watched the fire-headed Man repeat his words, only this time in the Man language. Then he realized that the floating Men were acting as interpreters. He found it easier to ignore them as the conversation wore on, and soon he felt as though he and his brother were talking to the dark-skinned Man themselves, without the need for any kind of liaison**.**

"And a wise person the silver Man is," said the dark Man. His voice was calm, but there was a rather distinct anger-smell rising from his armored flanks. "But you don't need to worry about keeping me out of the Temple."

_Why not?_ Iamb asked.

"Because I am your friend. I've come to help you keep the Temple safe from the spread of the Darkness. Would you like me to help you?"

_We're not pups anymore,_ Bicca growled. _Don't talk to us like we are. _

_Tell us what you plan to do,_ said Iamb. _This is our Temple, our territory. We have the right to know what you're going to do to it. Well, what are you going to do to our Temple if we let you in, Man?_ This question seemed to stall the Man, for he did not reply for quite a while. Once or twice, he held out his hands, and the reek of Darkness grew unbearably strong, but the floating Men would always calm him down. Then one of them whispered quietly in his ear, something that neither Wolfos could understand.

Finally, the Man spoke. "I've come to see your mother," he told them gently. "And once I...see to her—see that she's well, that is—I'll be more than happy to give you a little help. Guarding must be such boring work when it's just the two of you."

For a moment, Bicca found himself being lured by the Man's words. He felt his hackles relax and his lips droop back to cover his teeth again. His private thoughts returned to him, thoughts of longing for the old days. If he accepted the Man's help, then there would certainly be more time for him and Iamb to play together again. He tucked his claws gently and started padding towards the Man's side, hoping to brush his head against the newcomer in a gesture of friendship. He heard Iamb follow his lead, and together the Wolfoses sat at the dark Man's side. The Man started to pat their heads softly, rubbing his gloved fingers under chins and behind ears. Bicca gazed up at him with adoration...

...only to receive a shock that pierced his very bones and made him feel as though his whole body was on fire. Silver light flashed in front of his eyes, and suddenly the younger Wolfos could see clearer than he ever thought he could. The Darkness was there, burning hatefully in the Man's black eyes like hungry fire. Now Bicca saw what smooth words and gentle voices had covered: To let the dark Man into the Temple would mean destruction, and danger to the mother. When the Man crooked a finger to scratch under his chin again, the mottled brother snarled and clamped his jaws down on the whole hand. He heard Iamb's gasp of outrage, and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground with his brother's jaws over his throat. Bicca whined and tucked his tail between his legs, pleading fearfully for his brother to release him. Iamb's eyes, he noted with great alarm, had changed color, one that he remembered smelling on a bush full of berries and the blood of some prey: Red. The older Wolfos's jaws began to close, sending Bicca into paroxysms of terror.

Then, as soon as it had happened, it was over. Bicca heard a soft whistle, and saw with mingled relief and terror that Iamb's eyes had returned to their familiar shade. The Man shot Bicca a look of distaste, one that spoke volumes of hatred. Iamb's eyes were filled with horror as he licked his brother's throat gently. _I...I don't know...What just happened...? Brother...speak to me._

Bicca was too scared to speak, so he focused his eyes just above the Man's head, on the carving of the two Wolfoses. His vision blurred as he gazed at them. Why were they there, he wondered. Where they guardian spirits for the Guardians? He felt the Man stroking his head and heard him speaking to Iamb. "It may be difficult at first, but you will grow to trust us. We fight on your mother's side, so we are really allies. Your brother is fine, believe me. He just seems to have gotten a bit too excited, and in that excitement he mistook me for a foe."

There was _no _mistake, Bicca thought bitterly. The silver Man's light—I saw it in front of my eyes! You're part of the Darkness, Man, and I wouldn't be surprised if you're its source.

The dark Man excused himself from the two brothers, telling them that he was going to find their mother and make sure she was safe and sound. Bicca watched him go, grappling with the strong desire to chase after him and drive him back out the way he'd come. He trusted Iamb, and if Iamb said that the dark Man was not a threat, then Bicca was willing to go along with him. But even as he curled up to sleep that night, his blood still surged with the silver bolt that had let him see the true dark Man.

**(1) About a month. The lunar cycle is technically 28ish days.**


	13. Chapter 13

**My sincerest apologies if the last chapter sucked major ass. That's what I get for not writing for...Oh, I'm gonna say about a month and a half or so. Yeah. Sorry.**

Iamb rose from the bed of dried leaves hesitantly, his legs seeming to creak like trees in a windstorm. His moon-gold eyes glowed softly in the darkness of the den as he tenderly lifted each paw away from his still-sleeping brother. He resisted the urge to lick his cheek affectionately, telling himself it would be best if his brother got more sleep than he did. The big Wolfos slipped away from the nest quietly, fluffing out his thickening pelt against the morning chill of the approaching autumn. Summer was dying, but the prey within the stony gray walls of the Temple never seemed to go into hiding or die off during the later seasons. He decided to hunt for both his brother and himself this morning. Besides, it would give him some time to think on his own...especially about his brother.

Bicca jumpier and more sensitive around him, Iamb noticed, had been ever since the sun Man had visited. Bicca was now quick to fold under pressure, ready to submit and whine. Iamb could not understand why his lanky brother acted so...nervously around him. Surely he, Iamb, was not a secret aggressor? Was he snappier than usual, and just didn't realize it? The big Wolfos frowned and turned back a pace to gaze at his sleeping sibling. Bicca's gray chest rose and fell steadily with his light snoring. The muscles beneath his dappled flanks twitched erratically for a moment before the younger beast settled down to a deeper sleep. He looked completely at rest now, and Iamb felt his heart grow soft. Days were passing now, far quicker than he could truly remember them. Events were a blur to him, and he found it easier just to focus on each day as it came to him, rather than trying to file away the past. It was nice to know that through all that, Bicca would always be there with his charms and merry heart.

Iamb licked his black nose to pick up scents better, and swiftly caught the trail of a Skulltula. The sour-fleshed spiders had become a quick favorite of the Wolfos brothers, because they were incredibly populous and easy to dispatch. His tail swished once, and he loped with the Wolfos's trademark shuffling gait through the hallway in search of his prey. He remembered bolting through the passageway as a pup, kicking up his heels in idiotic delight and snarling at anything that was unlucky enough to move. Those days were gone now, but Iamb couldn't help feeling that it was for the best. His puppyhood had been enjoyable, but it was over. The world was not the bright, scent-rich, loving place it had been in his younger days, and if he and his brother were to cope with the change, they would have to be adults about it.

The Darkness was still there, and Bicca complained that its dark, stomach-achy presence pressing closer as the days wore on. Iamb paused and sniffed, trying in vain catch the dead scent his brother said was growing. The thick odor seemed to seep out of the stony walls themselves, Bicca said. Though he could not smell a change, there was something in the air that made Iamb feel tense and, for some unknown reason, incredibly spiteful and short-tempered. A few days earlier, Bicca had been quietly and unobtrusively urinating on one of the trees in the front room. Iamb had felt the need to shove him aside, even though he had no need to relieve himself at the tree. The urge had thankfully passed, and Iamb saw no need to dwell over it. But just the day before that, the older Wolfos had snapped at his brother when Bicca had tried to playfully steal his meal. Iamb saw that as the response of one who had not been getting proper sleep, and unthinkingly decided that Bicca must have felt the same.

_Chk-chk-chk._

The burly Wolfos pricked up his ears and darted forwards in a surprisingly light maneuver that most would have described as a handspring. He skidded to a stop on the worn cobblestone floors and whirled to face his prey. The Skulltula dangled in front of him, swinging hypnotically to and fro on the end of its web-thread. Briefly, Iamb recalled the struggles he and his brother had put up to bring down the spider-like monster when they were smaller. Lots of barking, he remembered. What purpose could the noise possibly have served? It didn't matter now, as Iamb's hefty paw swung out and, in one neat motion, sliced the line through and sent the Skulltula tumbling to the floor. Once there, it was the work of an expertly placed strike, and the Skulltula's banded legs clawed pitifully at the air. The big Wolfos took the narrow end of the spider's carapace in his jaws and crunched down hard. The Skulltula stopped moving abruptly, and Iamb's taste of victory was sourly sweet.

On a whim, he decided to take his prey a little further down into the Temple to eat, making plans to catch something else for his brother on his return. Besides, it was probably warmer in the lower levels, and there his half-thickened coat would keep him comfortably warm while he ate. Grasping the hard, convex surface of the spider's shell carefully, Iamb started towards the dome-like middle room. He heard the crackling of the fires long before he saw them, and after a few years of walking past them, he and his brother often calmly passed what would have driven them mad with fear had they been raised wild. In fact, his next action probably would have scared most Forest Wolfoses out of their minds. Iamb stepped nonchalantly onto the platform in the middle of the fires, and the floor began to rise above him. It was no mere trick, he told himself. The _floor _was not going _up_; rather, _he_ was going _down_.**(1) **The Wolfos settled himself in a seated position and waited for his descent to finish. From there, he stepped off the platform and looked for a place to eat his breakfast.

It _was_ warmer in the lower portions of the Temple. Iamb resolved he would tell his brother of his discoveries when he awoke. It would make the perfect place for them to come between guard shifts...Iamb sniffed. _Perhaps not,_ he thought. The dead-meat smell of the Darkness was less intense, it seemed, but Iamb reasoned that Bicca would only complain. He sighed as he cracked into the Skulltula's thick shell. Though he hated to admit it, he couldn't help feeling that he and his brother were starting to grow apart.

* * *

His meal finished, Iamb carefully loaded the cracked legs into the thoroughly cleaned shell of what was once a Skulltula and set it back on the moving platform. He would take it somewhere to bury it when he returned to the dome-room...But for now, he had a sudden itch to explore the lower Temple.

His first order of business was to examine the walls. His quick eyes had noticed that they were unlike anything he had seen before in his life, and his slow, dedicated mind had set to work on figuring them out. The walls seemed to sit just a hair's-breadth off of the floor, which said to him that they were not walls at all. If they weren't walls, then they were clearly not supporting the weight of the floor above, which meant...They would likely move. The Wolfos's somber gaze centered on the jutting surfaces, and he realized that if he wanted to, he could probably set his shoulder against it and push. Iamb gave the platform he had descended on one last glace, as if ordering it to stay put while he experimented, then pressed his muscular flank against the not-wall and heaved.

For the longest minute, it seemed as though the wall would not budge. Iamb strained his muscles against the smooth stone and shoved with all his might. The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, and the wall was moving away from him. Soft grinding noises filled his ears, as if the wall was complaining about being pushed so rudely. The Wolfos stood up slowly, scanning the small room cautiously. It seemed to him like nothing had changed, but as he turned to go, he caught the scent of something unusual. The soft churring of a Skulltula filled his ears, but what interested him more was the amazing metallic scent filling his nose. Skulltulas didn't smell like metal. Iamb nosed around until he came across a small room that his wall-shoving had opened up. He could see the Skulltula now, and even catch a glint of light off its shiny body. There were bars between it and him, which dulled his interest entirely. Besides, even if he could catch it, he probably couldn't eat it.

Another shove of the wall made Iamb want to step onto the moving platform and give this place a parting sniff. There was nothing but a raised heap of floor that, by scent, was not hiding anything out of the ordinary. The big Wolfos scratched at the walls in the small alcove curiously, but nothing interesting appeared. He dropped back onto all fours in disappointment. "It's warm...but there is really nothing else here," he said aloud, and his words bounced around the little room as if to doubly prove its worthlessness. With another soft sigh, he turned and trotted briskly out of the alcove. On his way back to the platform, he passed by another section of the wall, and it was there that he stopped.**(2)**

It was raining behind that wall.

Iamb stopped and faced the wall, then put his ears up to the stone to hear. No, he'd been fooled. Even his sharp sense of hearing could not detect the soothing pitterings of raindrops on stone floors. How could it be raining inside the Temple, anyways? The Wolfos sniffed curiously and was rewarded. Ah—there it was! He couldn't hear the rain, but he could certainly smell it...but why _rain_? Why was there such a delicious scent coming from behind that stone, a scent so pure and rainy and _green!_ Iamb's tail whisked rapidly behind him, its fluttering almost matching the beating of his heart. He felt like a pup again, full of boundless energy and love. He wanted to scratch the wall playfully, then leap away and crouch in a play-bow. The scent was coming to him even clearer now, riding breezes of pure joy to reach his dark nose. On a whim, he bounded forwards and licked the wall excitedly. The bland taste and unfamiliar texture brought him back to reality, but only just. He was so excited, he made a puddle on the floor.

The mother was behind the wall! Waiting for him!

Iamb whined excitedly and scrambled madly to push the wall further along its path. He barely noticed the grating protests of the stone; his ears pricked only for the mother's voice. When the wall ground to a halt, the big Wolfos happily darted through the darkened passage it had opened up, his tail flashing from side to side. His eyes gleamed like two full moons in the black night of his face, glowing almost as if to light his path up the winding staircase. Iamb rushed up the stairs, whining and slobbering with excitement. The mother was here—He'd finally found her! Now he could stay down here and guard her more closely...and perhaps bring her a bit of company to brighten the lonely darkness. The massive Wolfos burst over the top stair, his red-brown tongue flopping out of the corner of his mouth. As he stood there panting, he inhaled through his nose to try and bring the room's scents to him.

It was with disappointment—brutal, crushing, heart-shattering disappointment—that he realized he had once again been tricked. The mother's scent was here, yes, but it was so stale and diffused that she probably hadn't set foot in this room for at least a year. Iamb sat brokenly on the floor, the excited fire in his belly dying with a maddening hiss. The mother wasn't here after all. His heart dropped down to his tail with shame and sorrow. She wasn't waiting for her intelligent son to come and lay beside her. She hadn't _been_ waiting for almost a year. The mother wasn't here. Iamb tilted back his head slowly and began a soft, mournful howl. He and Bicca had put some stock into howling contests as they had grown, thinking it as something new they could show the mother when she visited them. Bicca had been gifted with the sweeter voice, but he could not match the depth of Iamb's mellow song. The big Wolfos droned low, building up his breath. Then, with a sudden thrust, he leapt to his paws in the empty room and wailed into the darkness with explosive song. He stood with splayed legs and yowled till he was sure his heart would break. And then, just as soon as his voice had begun, he cut it off swiftly with a snarl.

Clapping filled his ears, the soft sounds of Man paws coming together and hitting each other. Iamb growled, raising his hackles defensively. His song was meant for the mother, and he was prepared to guard it from other ears with his life. The shadows moved with soft whispers, forming a shape that put the burly Wolfos in an odd state of ease. He dropped his hackles and moved his legs into a sturdier stance. A few lights came up from around the room, dim but more than bright enough for his eyes. The green scents of the mother vanished, almost as if the striding shadows had sucked them away. In there place was something almost as familiar: the scent of rotting wood. It was a heavy, brown odor that seemed strangely sweet, but it put Iamb in mind of the Forest he loved and made him feel a little easier.

A Man moved into his view, and the Wolfos quickly crouched a little lower. He gazed up at the strange newcomer's face, which was really nothing more than a horned skull. He was not afraid of the skull. He was submissive, because he noticed that this particular Man was wearing some very familiar-looking armor on his body. The question leapt from his mouth. "Where is the sun Man?"**(3)** he asked. He preferred his name over Bicca's—the dark Man—because he personally saw nothing wrong with the Man.

"He is...not here," the shadow-Man replied heavily, its voice almost as grating as the sliding walls. Iamb's ears flattened away from the harsh sound. "But I am...his Shadow..." He even _spoke_ like the walls—drawn out and annoyingly slow. Iamb nodded. "I...am a part...of him."

"And the mother," Iamb continued, not bothering to wonder how the Man knew his words without using floating Men to translate for him. "Where is she now? I scented her here, but her scent is old."

"She is...safe." The shadow-Man knelt down and held out his paws disarmingly. Iamb stepped forward slowly, his golden eyes carefully scanning possible escape routes. If the shadow-Man was part of the sun Man, then he was not a threat. But if the shadow-Man was lying...it never hurt to have somewhere to run. Iamb stood barely a half-tail-length away from him, and she shadow-Man reached out a hand and stroked the Wolfos under the chin. Iamb's tail began to wag fiercely, and the shadow placed its other hand atop his furry head.

* * *

Silver light flashed in a streak in front of Bicca's eyes, jolting him awake in time to feel its bright fire flood his body. The smaller Wolfos scrabbled madly amongst the dead leaves, yelping in terror. The silver Man's light—he'd seen it again! Something was happening, something with the Darkness the silver Man had made them swear to fight against. Bicca was on his feet with stiff fur in a heartbeat, snarling at shadowy corners bravely. He turned his head, ready to give the words that would stir his brother into action beside him...

...only Iamb wasn't there.

Bicca scanned the room quickly, his body still tingling with the aftershocks of the silver light. The sun had started to rise just a few hours earlier, and the front room of the Temple was full of gray dawn light. The Wolfos paused briefly at the entrance of the building, and noted with some curiosity that someone had moved the old bones lying about. How long had that stone slab been there? he wondered briefly. Perhaps Iamb would have noticed it...Iamb! He wasn't in the nest, but he was sure to be somewhere in the Temple.

It was easy to pick up his brother's trail, even though the crowding Darkness threatened to rub it away entirely. The younger brother growled at the pressing, sickening feelings that filled his waking moments with dread. His brother was not in the nest, and Bicca was going to find him. He was starting to develop the notion that the silver Man's light was a sign for him, a signal that the Darkness was up to its nasty tricks again and had to be stopped. Nose to the ground, Bicca was off in a streak of splotched fur.

He paused in the hallway at a small pool of strong-smelling fluid. Skulltula juice, he told himself firmly. Iamb must have snagged the spider for a quick breakfast, which meant he was probably holed up somewhere eating. Iamb liked to eat in strange places—on top of platforms, in dark corners, on the bridge in the courtyard, lounged across sets of stairs. Bicca was sure he would find his brother in one of those spots, and luckily they were all within a few moments' run from the hallway. The smaller Wolfos yipped quietly and bolted through the passageway as quickly as he could. No sense in giving that place a more thorough search; Iamb couldn't possibly hide from his brother in there.

Poor Bicca nearly broke his neck in his excited dash through the Temple. He managed to bring himself to a stop just in time, flinging up his paws when he realized that his nose was touching not the ground, but thin air. The platform that normally sat in the center of the room was gone, and with it, Iamb's scent trail. Bicca whimpered sadly, as if calling to the fallen platform and asking it to return to him. Mentally, he judged the fall, and wondered mildly if he would survive if he jumped. As he hung over the edge of the hole with his claws, the silver light flared again in front of his vision, and the blast that shook him to his core sent him flying over the edge with a startled howl. Then he was falling, falling into a warm unknown that was heavy with Darkness. The rotten stench made him gag, and he whirled about hopelessly with his claws. He was doomed now—he might as well go down fighting. But just as he let his forelegs drop to his sides, something incredible happened. Something rushed out beneath him, something warmer than the underground room, and brilliant with golden light. The bright stream cradled him in shining arms, slowing his wild fall and setting him on all four paws on the floor. The golden light flashed to the side, then dissipated with a small whisper.

Bicca's eyes glowed, and he bounded in the direction that the light had shown him. The silver Man's radiance racked his body again, sending his paws flying up the spiral staircase and closer to his brother's scent. The smaller Wolfos seemed to swell with power as he ran, and his eyes began to glow with a faint silvery light. He flew over the final stair and landed on the center platform with a rich, bright cry.

"Brother!" Iamb yelped, stumbling away from the shadow-Man in shock. His tail wagged in recognition, but Bicca did not return the greeting. His strangely silver eyes were centered on the shadowy creature, and every hair on his body was on end. His lips drew back to reveal fangs like ice-blades. His breath came in snorting, rumbling pants. Iamb's reaction changed from surprised affection to deep suspicion. "Brother, why are you angry?" he asked. "The shadow-Man is the same as the sun Man. He is our friend."

"Why do you call the dark Man something he's not?" Bicca shot back, his voice carrying the slightest hint of a whine. "He has no sunlight in him—only Darkness! The dark Man is no friend of mine."

Iamb's ears pushed forward aggressively, and Bicca felt his resolve weaken. Already Iamb's eyes were glowing with that unsettling color, the one he had seen shades of and knew the scent as red. The younger Wolfos sensed that there were Powers here, Powers far beyond his or his brother's knowledge. He wondered if they were being used as avatars and pitted against each other to settle the scores that the strange Powers had never truly laid to rest. But then that meant the silver Man—who Bicca believed to be the ultimate good—was using him...and Bicca would never believe that. Perhaps the Powers were always fighting, and the two Wolfoses were simply caught in crossfire.

Iamb snarled and lunged for his brother's throat. Bicca shrank back at first, until the silver light flooded his muscles with lightning and sent him into action. He raced forwards as well, but ran with his belly brushing the floor. Iamb leapt over him and skidded to a stop with a growl. Bicca whirled as best he could, but the argent fire was dimming, as if the Darkness were stealing its strength. He was too slow, and Iamb's teeth were suddenly sideclaws away from his neck. The younger Wolfos did something he would never truly forgive himself for. In a sudden, vicious blast of self-defensive power, he snapped out his tucked claws and lashed out. Iamb drew back a mere inch, but that, combined with a reflexive eye-closing, was enough to keep his golden orb from being speared on his brother's talon.

Just like that, it was over.

Iamb dropped back, whipping his head from side to side as if trying to shake off a clingy tick. He crouched a few stride away from his brother, panting heavily and dripping blood. Bicca felt the silver fire in his bones died out completely, and he bellied forwards with a whine of pleading. Iamb opened his eyes, and the smaller beast was relieved to see that they were no longer that terrifying scarlet. He licked his brother's nose gently. In that moment, Bicca thought his brother looked incredibly old and tired, like a scrawny pack elder that knows his time is up but refuses to die simply because living is familiar and death is unknown. He flipped onto his back and shimmied a little, knowing full well that that action had always given him a quick slurp on the cheek. Instead, he received a bite on the nose.

It was not a bite meant to break the skin, but one to show that the biter is by no means fooling around. The sensation of teeth pressing down on his sensitive nose sent Bicca into a sudden fit of submission. His tail flew between his hind legs. He tipped his head back to expose his throat. He whined and pleaded and licked to show that he would be _glad_ to do anything Iamb ordered. And Iamb, unfortunately, took him as his unspoken word.

"We will return to the front room, brother," he rumbled, his voice dangerously calm. "And when we do, you will make your own nest on the other side of the room. I don't care how you do it, but know that I will not have you in my nest any longer."

"Of co—"

"_And, _brother, you will never again question my actions," Iamb continued. "The sun Man has done nothing to harm us—in fact, he told me he knows where the mother is. I believe him, and you should too. I can't change you if you want to go fooling around with the silver idiot—but I only want the best for you, brother, and you'd do well to accept that _I_ know what's best."

Bicca gazed up at his brother in open horror. Leaving the nest wasn't so bad; it was only a pile of old leaves that was getting awfully crowded. But to hear Iamb say that he trusted the dark Man over the silver Man was almost too much. Was it not the dark Man who had first set them fighting amongst each other? But with his brother's teeth so close to his unguarded throat, Bicca didn't even consider voicing his opinions. The younger Wolfos nodded in quiet consent, and crouched low beside his brother. Iamb led the way back up to the front room in silence, never once turning his head to look at his brother. Bicca ran his tongue distractedly over his fangs, trying desperately to block out from his mind the sickening stench that threatened to choke him where he stood.

Iamb's pelt and breath stank of the Darkness.

**(1) Yah...there's an elevator. No, for real.**

**(2) You remember how you have to push the wall to make it move around? It took me **_**forever**_** to figure it all out.**

**(3) Because he smells like the sun to the brothers. They don't exactly know what a desert is. Otherwise Iamb would call him the desert Man.**


	14. Chapter 14

Spring rain pounded dully on the roof of the Forest Temple and sheeted across its entranceway in a silver curtain. Bicca pricked his ears forward to listen to it, hoping to use its simple melody to drown every last thought whirling through his brain. Looking outside, he could see the dim, dark shape of one of the dark Man's beasts—the "help" he had promised the Wolfos brothers—standing in the downpour just outside the small clearing. _The dark Man certainly rewards his guardians well,_ he thought dryly. His yellow gaze shifted away from the doorway and settled sadly on the pile of leaves across the room. Iamb's nest was currently empty; he was probably relaxing down in the belly of the Temple with the shadow-man. The thought of the reeking underground ran chills down his spine, and out of habit, Bicca looked at the carving above the door.

This was the fourth spring since the dark Man's appearance, and the wet, gray, dead smell in the air made Bicca's young heart feel incredibly old. The mottled Wolfos heaved a sigh and uncurled his lean body from its furry knot. Ever since that day down below the Temple, when he had seen Iamb with the shadow-Man, the two brothers had been growing more and more distant. There was no real hostility...Just to near-total lack of interaction. This also made Bicca feel old, for while it was in part his nature, his gay spirits and cocky heart were mostly his way of showing his affection for his stern older brother. Now that Iamb freely ignored him, the younger Wolfos felt he had lost his reason for life, or something equally valuable to him.

Silver light flickered in the back of his mind, its luminance just barely reaching his mind's eye. The light had been fading steadily as well—whether it was just part of him growing accustomed to its frequent flashes, or perhaps something more sinister, Bicca couldn't say. All he knew is that a pulse like the one he had just seen meant that Iamb was drawing nearer. The lanky beast dropped a forepaw heavily across his nose, hoping to block out the inevitable wave of Darkness that was soon to follow. Still, he reasoned with more optimism than his heart had seen in weeks, Iamb was generally more relaxed after a visit with the shadow-Man. Bicca turned his head slightly to the side and spotted his brother just as he strolled into the front room. His tail gave a few thumps that went unnoticed except for a brief twitch of Iamb's gray tail. Was it a wag? Probably not. Bicca's own tail flopped limply back to earth, as if killed by lack of attention.

There was something decidedly unusual about Iamb, and it wasn't just the change in his scent. The big Wolfos seemed to be growing, with his already broad shoulders now their original length and half again, his muscular forelimbs even more developed than before, his stocky hindlegs even sturdier. Every time he looked at him, Bicca felt like a pup next to his father. Iamb's eyes were more inclined to flash red, even if he wasn't angry in the least. His pelt was still its same dark gray, the color Bicca always remembered it being...But it seemed longer now, and a slight mane had started to form on the back on his neck, a mane that bristled up sharply whenever his emotions took a turn for the worse. And now he was clinking—

Clinking?

Bicca's head shot up in surprise. He flailed around briefly as his legs and paws tried desperately to communicate. Then, once on his feet, he padded over timidly to his brother's side. Iamb's eyes were red, a color that could mean just about anything, but Bicca took it to mean that he wasn't angry—yet. Dropping onto his belly, the younger Wolfos shuffled closer. "Brother...you're making a strange sound," he whispered. Iamb turned and looked down distantly. He was silent for a few moments, leaving Bicca to wonder if he was trying to look through him to the unoffending floor. He licked his nose nervously. "Well, I'm sure it's a good sound, whatever it is," he offered humbly. Iamb did not respond, and Bicca began to pull back slowly. As if the movement had snapped him back to reality, the larger Wolfos nodded and tipped his head to the side. Bicca stopped backing away and crouched on the floor, tilting his head back to get a better look.

A thick, black band was wrapped around his thick neck, partly hidden under his lengthening fur. It smelled of the Darkness and some hoofed animal, although why Iamb would be wearing a circle of prey-skin around his neck was beyond Bicca's understanding. The band was studded with chunky, black box-shapes at regular intervals. Bicca puzzled over these boxes for a while before dismissing them as nothing terribly important. The musical, jingling noise that the he had heard came from a metal ring that hung just below Iamb's throat, on the lower half of the band. Something was etched in the box-less space above the ring in glowing red. The markings looked remarkably like those on the carving, so Bicca asked curiously what they meant. Iamb grinned. "It's my name," he said. "The shadow-Man gave it to me. He has one for you as well, I think. You should go down and ask him to give it to you."

_Should_. Meaning "you'll go down there right now if you know what's good for you."

Bicca cocked his head to the side. "But what is it, brother?" he asked. Iamb sighed.

"It's called a _collar_," he answered with the air of one whose patience is on the verge of running out. "The shadow-Man gave it to me, said it was a gift from the sun Man. He says it will help us guard the Temple even more. Try to attack me—I won't lift a claw to stop you." Bicca hesitated. "Really, brother, try it! It's something to see!" Was that an edge of excitement in his voice? Iamb hadn't sounded excited about anything in years. Bicca was more than happy to oblige, if only it kept his brother talking to him.

He bounded forwards and lunged for Iamb's broad side, hoping to bring his brother to the ground that way, _collar _or not. The massive Wolfos didn't move a hair, but his _collar_ did. Sheets of bright metal whipped out from the black box-shapes Bicca had noticed previously, their edges gliding soundlessly past each other. The sheets lay flat, covering Iamb's shoulders and neck in impressive looking plating. Bicca brought his leap up short just in time, and he watched in fear as the metal pushed out great spines of plating, which ran down the length of the armor from neck to mid-shoulder. Iamb's back legs bunched up under him, and he shot into the air in a wild pounce that ended with him pinning the terrified Bicca to the ground. The armor moved seamlessly with his muscular form every sideclaw of the way, sliding quietly like a second pelt. Once his grip on his brother's shoulders was secure, the metal retracted as noiselessly as it had appeared, sliding back into the _collar_, which was soon nothing more than its original black leather band. The markings on the center glowed like red eyes.

"Wasn't that impressive, brother?" Iamb asked. He hadn't released his grip yet, and Bicca was starting to get a little nervous. "Don't you want a _collar_ of your own?"

Bicca gulped. "What if I said no?" he asked warily. His shoulders tensed in a half-flinch, and he wondered if Iamb would turn on him for questioning him. Iamb's brow furrowed, and Bicca tried again. "Brother, I don't think I would like to have my neck being pinched. It looks uncomfortable."

Iamb sighed and looked off to the side. For a moment, he seemed confused and when he spoke, it was in a soft murmur that sounded so unlike him. "It _was _uncomfortable at first. It almost made me feel like I had been betrayed, and my freedom stolen...away..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head vigorously. "But I got used to it," he grunted in a voice that sounded more like the Iamb Bicca had come to fear. "It's made me stronger. If you want to stay weak, brother, then I can't force you to get your own _collar_." He looked down at Bicca, still pinned beneath his mighty paws, as if noticing him for the first time. The hefty Wolfos stepped back and let his brother up, his gaze strangely tender.

**

* * *

**

"Brother, do you ever think about what the silver Man said to us all those years ago?" Bicca asked. "About how one from the Light would come and free the Temple from Darkness?" Iamb nodded. "Do you ever wonder when he'll come to us?"

The brothers were resting in their nests one morning and chatting. Two weeks had passed since Iamb had come in with his new _collar_, and the change it had brought about in him surprised Bicca. The younger Wolfos hadn't had so much interaction with his brother in ages! True, Iamb would occasionally break off in the middle of something, choke, and head for the belly of the Temple...But Bicca wasn't worried about that. His tail began to wag fiercely as his brother spoke.

"The shadow-Man told me to be wary," he barked. "He said that Darkness is finding ways to disguise itself as Light, and that we should be very careful about who we let into the Temple." He bared his fangs, as if he fully expected to find an agent of Darkness wrapped in Light entering the Temple any moment.

"The silver Man said we would know," Bicca pointed out helpfully. Iamb scoffed, and there was a hint of amusement in the sound.

"We'll just have to be careful, brother," he muttered, and, heaving himself to his paws, strode towards the entrance. He stood in the doorway, his massive frame nearly blocking the entire space. Bicca managed to squeeze between a forepaw and the doorframe. The two brothers gazed out at the forest. Finally, Iamb spoke again. "The shadow-Man still won't tell me where the mother is," he mused. "He said he would tell me one day, and it's been..."

"Seven years," said Bicca quietly, although just how he knew, he wasn't sure. Iamb made a noise in the back of his throat and backed out of the doorway, his dense pelt sticking to his flanks in clumps because of the moisture in the air. He started towards the door at the back of the front room.

"I'm going to hunt," he declared. "Would you like to come with me?"

Bicca's heart leapt for joy in his furry chest, but just as he was about to nod in agreement, he was stopped by a bolt of furious, silver lightning. It struck him with the intensity of years gone by, searing his bones and sending his flesh quivering. The light flooded his mind and eyes in a glowing tide. The lean Wolfos's claws sank into the cobbled stones beneath his paws, and he gasped for breath. He waited for the sensation to pass, but it insisted on lingering. His body seemed on fire. His chest ached, his feet burned, his stomach flipped over. His muscles began to contract jerkily, and before long, he had crumbled on his side and was convulsing on the floor. Dimly, he heard retreating pawsteps as Iamb fled the scene in what Bicca only hoped was worried terror.

Then, just as the bright silver fire consuming his being reached a fever pitch, it dulled to a wonderful warm feeling. Bicca felt his burned body relax and come under his control once more. He let his thrashing paws rest gently on the stone floor and heaved a sigh of relief. He felt as though the lustrous light had burned away the Darkness left by Iamb's presence and left him as pure and clean as a newborn pup. He was drifting in a silver summer. All he knew was Light. Something wonderful was happening, but Bicca hadn't the faintest idea what. He relaxed totally, closing his eyes, and felt his mind go blissfully clear.

And in the clearness, Bicca saw something extraordinary. He saw the clear image of a Man, though the area around him was blurred. The young Man was battling the spiny plant-monsters that the spreading Darkness had sown into life. Though he fought in darkness, there was light shining all around him. Bicca felt a sense of wonder and peace. He wanted to meet this Man, the Man who was fighting the Darkness just as he, Bicca, had tried so valiantly to do. Was this the one of whom the silver Man had spoken?

* * *

Iamb bolted towards the lowering platform at the center of the room, his pelt bristled sharply. He barely knew what was happening, only that something was tugging intently at his _collar_. Mere heartbeats after his innocent question to Bicca, the metal ring had jingled sharply and lurched towards the Temple's darkest heart. Iamb had had to choose between racing with the tug or being strangled where he stood. His heart was racing in his tightening throat like a fearful rabbit.

The instant his paws touched the platform, his _collar_ pulled downward. Iamb choked and reared up onto his hindpaws to lessen the pull. He strained against the force of it like an untrained dog against a leash. The strength and intensity of it startled him. True, he'd felt tugs since he'd started wearing it, but none this severe. Usually it would only take him by surprise, and only once had it bothered him enough to follow the source of the pull. The platform thumped on the floor, and the jerking began again. Iamb bounded towards the opening in the not-wall, feeling as though his collar were choking him.

Up, up, up the steps he pounded, his collar all but dragging him along with it. He burst over the top stair, out of breath and shaking. The shadow-Man was waiting for him, and one of his front paws was loosely coiled around something. At Iamb's entrance, he relaxed his paw, and the painful pull on the Wolfos's neck lessened instantly. "I...have need...for you," he grated slowly. Iamb looked up out of one eye, still trying to catch his breath. "There is...something gravely wrong."

"What?" huffed the muscular beast.

"I sense...that the Darkness...draws nearer..." The shadow-Man placed a hand on Iamb's head, and the Wolfos closed his eyes. He saw a vision of a Man with a shining stick in his paw. The Man was clear, but as the image stretched away from him it grew blurry and unfocused. Iamb saw the Man slashing at thorny plants, his shiny-stick flashing with each swipe. The shadow-Man's voice came in low, like distant thunder. "This youth...has wrapped...himself in Light. Do not...be fooled. He is...of purest Darkness...and must not enter...your Temple. He will...reach the Temple's door...in less...than two days. Be prepared."

Iamb nodded, and the vision left him. "I will warn my brother," he barked solemnly. The shadow-Man shook his head.

"He will not...believe you. Be sure that his...weakness...does not rub off...onto you. Strike when...the time is right."

The Wolfos nodded again and started towards the stairs. He had at least a day to prepare himself for the Man's approach. It pained him to have to keep such an important secret from his brother, but it was for the best. The shadow-Man was right, he reasoned. Bicca would not believe a word he said, and it would be best for Iamb to take care of the Light-wrapped Man on his own. His brother would not stand in his way. They were Temple Guardians, and if Bicca could not understand that that meant keeping their Temple safe, then he was not worthy of his title.

* * *

Though neither spoke of their experiences, the Wolfos brothers knew that something had happened to the other and they feared it. They knew that something profound had occurred, but could not understand just what. Bicca's eyes now shone brightest silver, while Iamb's smoldered deepest red. They smelled bitter and foreign to each other, and kept out of each other's ways. Neither slept; their eyes glowed in the night as they kept careful watch one another. They hunted separately. They clung to the walls when they passed in the hallway, lest so much as a single hair on their pelts brush. They were silent, each lost in their own thoughts and memories.

Words whispered through their minds at all hours, like the wind through summer trees. Bicca heard them in the voice of Rauru; Iamb, in that of Ganondorf: _He is coming. Be ready..._

**

* * *

**

"I'm ready."

The words were nearly stolen away by the stiff autumn wind, and they left the young man's lips in a cloud of smoke. He shivered and pulled his arms in around his chest to stay warm. The sky above was a deep, bruised shade of purple, and thunder murmured in the distance. Strands of golden-blonde hair danced across the boy's line of sight, and with a sigh, he brushed them away. In his other hand, he held a dully gleaming Ocarina, and he clutched it a little tighter before stowing it in one of his belt pouches. Once the instrument was safely tucked away, the youth pulled out what looked like a grappling hook attached to a spring-loaded chain. He aimed the hook for the overhanging branch of a dead tree, fired, and pulled himself onto the greystone landing. A few dried leaves crunched under his heavy boots, but the boy took no heed. Instead, he unsheathed his sword, readied his shield, and entered the Temple. Just as he did so, the first few drops of rain began to fall.

Almost instantly, he heard a chorus of twin howls and saw two indistinct shapes rise up in the darkness of the Temple. The bluish light in the corners of his eyes flashed bright yellow. "Watch out!" his fairy companion yelped as she dipped and wove in zigzags. The young man's eyes narrowed as he adopted a cautious stance with his shield held in front. "Wolfos! There's two of them! Be careful, Link!"

**

* * *

**

Iamb and Bicca broke away from their heated staring match at the sound of the intruder's footfalls. For a moment, they were still, straining their tired eyes to focus on their visitor. Then, they both gave voice to a wild yowl and charged. Their paws felt supercharged with energy—Bicca's a fiery silver, Iamb's a throbbing crimson—and their eyes burned to match. They let out yelps of excitement as they rushed the Man, who simply stood there and waited for their approach. When they split and ran around him, he lowered his shield just slightly and looked from one beast to the other.

It was the Man from his vision!

Bicca skidded to a halt partway through his charge, his heart thudding against his ribs. The Man's eyes, eyes that were the same dark grey **(1)** as deep water, seemed to bore into his very soul. There was something familiar about that cool stare, those heavy hindpaws, that loose-fitting pelt. The Wolfos sniffed, drawing in the Man's scent deeply in his curiosity. He watched Iamb lunge, only to be knocked down by a quick thrust from the large metal leaf on the Man's arm and a sharp cry of "Back!" The command in itself was familiar, not to mention the inflection of the Man's voice. The memories were just out of reach, like the last bit of flesh in a Skulltula's shell, but Bicca was reasonably sure that he knew this Man personally. But how?

The lean Wolfos raced forwards, working up his courage to approach the defensive Man. When the Man thrust out with his metal leaf, Bicca ducked underneath it and lodged himself between it and the Man. He was hoping for a closer sniff, but the youth stumbled backwardswith a cry. He flailed his arms wildly to regain his balance, and as he did, a glowing ball of furry light smacked the curious Wolfos square on the head. It squealed a stream of words at him, which Bicca only half-caught. Among them, however, was the word that made him weak with recognition.

Link.

Bicca leapt backwards joyfully to let the young Man back into the Temple. His mind was whirling happily as he realized that the visitor was none other than his beloved green-boy! Green-_man_, he corrected himself, watching the youth somersault away from the precarious landing and back into the Temple. His black-tipped tail began to wag. It was the mother's most trusted packmate, come to visit his Wolfos friends and rescue the mother! He let out a salvo of barks and gave a play-bow. "Brother, it's the green-boy!" he howled. "The green-boy's come! Don't you remember him?"

Iamb gave his brother a quick glance. "No," he grunted as he readied another assault on the boy. "Help me drive him off—he's full of Darkness! He has no place in the Temple!" And with that, he sprang onto his hindpaws and swung his claws. They clanged noisily off of the Man's metal leaf, striking up a flurry of brilliant sparks. As if in answer to the harsh screech, thunder boomed outside.

Bicca wove under his brother's whirling forelegs and popped up behind the green-man. He wiggled his rump playfully. He felt his old self rise up again, the joyful rogue that no one could truly hate. "Brother, I had a vision last night," he barked. "The green-man is the one the silver Man promised us!" He darted forwards and gave the back of the youth's neck a sniff. "He smells of the Light!"

"It's a disguise!" Iamb snapped, vaulting backwards to avoid a thrust from the Man's shiny stick. "He is pure Darkness! The silver Man is nothing but an old fool trying to mislead you!" He struck out again, but the Man ducked backwards and avoided his attack. "He must not enter our Temple! You're a Guardian—guard it!"

Bicca was deeply hurt by his brother's words, and he looked away in shame. Hadn't he been doing that for these seven long years? Hadn't he lashed out against the Darkness and fought for the Light? Hadn't he gone behind his brother's back and killed without eating, because the silver Man had said their hunting was a strike against the Darkness?Hadn't he stayed away from the dark Man? Hadn't he? His tail fell between his legs and he whined pitifully. "Brother, I—," he began, only to be cut off by a sickening thump. His head whipped back around to look at his burly brother.

Iamb had used his powerful shoulder to drive the green-man right into the Temple's stone sat in a limp huddle against it, his long limbs sprawled out, his head tipped back. The shiny-stick had fallen from his upturned hand, and the hand grasping the loops inside the metal leaf was open as well. He was still except for the rapid heaving of his chest as he gasped for breath. His eyes were closed, and his mouth had fallen open partway as well. Iamb stood over him, looking incredibly satisfied. "He's not dead," he reported. "Just stunned. Why don't you finish him off, brother? It should be easy, even for a shrinking coward like you."

Bicca stood in silent disgust. His mouth didn't seem to want to cooperate with his brain; he couldn't tell his brother that he would not, _could_ not, hurt the green-man. Iamb huffed impatiently. "If that's the way you want it, I guess I'll just have to _show_ you how it's done," he growled. "Pay close attention to how I do this." His scarlet eyes narrowed into burning slits, and his chest reverberated with a thunderous snarl. He raised his lethal claws and aimed them at the unconscious Man's exposed neck.

The younger Wolfos felt something snap inside of him. Suddenly, defying his dominant, stronger, pushier, bigger brother didn't seem like such a sin. He darted forwards and stationed himself between the other Wolfos and his intended victim before Iamb could stop his strike. As the thorn-sharp claws swept down at him, Bicca thrust up with a forepaw and knocked them away neatly. The force of his counterstrike sent Iamb sprawling. With a quick look towards his brother, the lanky beast bent his neck and gave the youth a gentle lick on the cheek. The boy grunted softly, his face twitching in pain. He opened one eye just a crack, slowly widening it in groggy surprise. "Bicca...?" he murmured. The Wolfos wagged his tail happily and gave the young Man's face another lick that sent him laughing softly. "Oh, gods...Bicca, it's you!"

Bicca woofed, his entire backside shaking with glee. He felt like a pup again, lending his shoulder in support as the green-man rose to his feet. He received a rub behind the ears for his help and a soft whisper of, "Good boy! _Good_ boy!" He heard Iamb's feet approach and turned to meet his brother's gaze.

"Brother, it's—" He was cut short by his brother's hefty forepaw slamming full-force into his face. The swipe sent him tumbling, and his snout burned with pain. His head cracked against an exposed stone on the floor, sending the world around him spinning. "Don't hurt him!" he howled, his voice high-pitched with fear. "He's here to help us, brother!" Iamb rolled his eyes and snorted derisively, then turned on the young Man standing before him.

The room spun around him, but Bicca bravely scrambled to his feet. He saw his brother on his hindpaws, his long forelegs dangling awkwardly at his sides. He saw the green-man calling his brother's name desperately and smiling. He saw Iamb shift his weight back and knew what he had to do. With one last look at his beloved carving for strength, the lanky Wolfos bounded forwards and stood on his back legs in front of the young Man. Lightning flared across the sky, and the white light pulsed in through the doorway. Bicca's whole body and face were punctuated with dark, harsh shadows, and he looked incredibly fierce. "Brother, _STOP!!_" he thundered. Iamb's claws ripped through his chest in a cruel line, tearing past his ribs and ripping at the soft organs beneath. Red sprayed in all directions, spurts fueled by the frenzied pounding of Bicca's terrified heart. Fiery pain, like nothing he had ever felt before, blasted his body.

Iamb stood panting, and watched in disgusted shock as his brother fell to the ground in a limp, bloody heap. He dropped down onto all fours and pushed his nose up against Bicca's. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, brother," he whispered, his voice rough with pain. "But if you weren't so weak, you wouldn't have given your life for someone who will never return the favor. He _is_ the Darkness, and I will kill him to protect my Temple." Bicca whined weakly and licked the muscular brute's nose fondly. His shook his head slowly.

"You're wrong...but I hope...you do not act...rashly," he gasped. "Brother...Iamb...my brother...I love you..."

Iamb sighed and returned the lick. "I love you, as well," he murmured. His red eyes grew soft as he realized that his brother was dying. "You are in pain. I will end it for you, and you will run with the stars as you always dreamed you would." Bicca's tail thumped twice as his brother's jaws closed around his neck. It was the work of a quick bite; Bicca heard his neck crunch under those strong teeth and felt his pain melt away. The silver light died from his eyes, and he closed them with a sigh. Then he felt nothing, and knew nothing but boundless joy and freedom as he left his bleeding, torn body far behind.

Iamb turned again to the quivering Man, baring his bloody fangs in a snarl of pure hatred.

**(1) They're colorblind, remember.**


	15. Chapter 15

"Iamb...Iamb, it's me!" Link whispered, pressing himself against the wall nervously. His heart was hammering against his chest, thudding harder and harder as the massive Wolfos's snarl grew. "Don't you remember me? I used to help Saria take care of you when you and Bicca were still pups." If Iamb recognized him, he did not show it. The youth began edging along the wall, away from the beast. "You _have_ to remember Saria, at the very least—she was practically your mother!"

Iamb let loose a fearsome bark and lunged. Link narrowly dodged the attack by ducking low and leaping to the side. He watched in terror as the burly Wolfos ricocheted off the stone surface and landed with the grace of a Zora a few feet away. Despite being nearly four times the size that he had been when Link last saw him, the heavier brother had lost none of his smooth agility. "Saria's in danger," the boy tried again, glancing at the fallen Master Sword. He'd dropped it when Iamb had thrown him against the wall, and the pleasant surprise of finding Bicca still friendly had removed it from his thoughts entirely. He watched the Wolfos's eyes dart towards the blade, then back to him. "Iamb, you have to believe me! I'm here to help you!"

Slowly, the Hylian youth began edging towards his sword. Perhaps if he sheathed it, he reasoned, Iamb wouldn't see him as so much of a threat. The Wolfos followed him every step of the way, his ruby-red eyes narrowed to slits. He rumbled angrily, raising his voice to match the growling of the thunder. "Iamb, please," Link begged softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, I swear! Just listen to me. Saria's—" He broke off as Iamb made a sudden, furious leap towards the Master Sword. The youth bit his lip and dug into one of his belt pouches. Then, with a wild shout, he flung a Deku Nut down in front of the Wolfos. The hefty seed exploded with a burst of light. The mighty creature yelped in surprise and stumbled back, his forelegs wrapped over his eyes protectively. Link lunged forwards and snagged his sword before Iamb had time to recover. He sheathed it swiftly across his back and held out his hands. "See? No sword! I'm not here to hurt you!"

Iamb shook his head firmly and grunted. His gray shoulders were bristling stiffly and his ears swung forwards aggressively. He kept flexing his blood-soaked claws, as if eager to rip and tear. Link gulped reflexively. There seemed to be no reasoning with the Wolfos, and though he hated to have to say it, the confrontation would eventually lead to kill or be killed. "I can't leave," he tried one last time. "Saria is in danger, and she's in this Temple somewhere. I have to find her, before it's too late!"

Then, as if the youth's words had finally gotten through to him, Iamb relaxed. His hackles fell and his lips dropped back over his fangs again. His sizeable claws flipped back under his pawpads with a soft _snick_. He even wagged his tail as he approached Link. The boy sighed with relief. "I knew you were still in there, Iamb," he murmured, holding out his hands to the Wolfos. Iamb gave them both a sniff, then started covering them with licks. Link started to scratch behind the soft, furry ears, and Iamb responded with a soft huff of pleasure. Thunder muttered softly behind them. "I knew you'd remember—"

As quickly as it had come on, the Wolfos's burst of affection ended, and Link knew that he had been fooled. Iamb twisted to the side and rammed his shoulder against the Hylian's chest, knocking him flat on the floor. Two heavily armed paws pinned his arms down. Iamb pushed his nose right up against Link's, and the boy flinched back from the reek of blood on his breath. The muscular Wolfos grinned crookedly and panted. His jaws stretched open wide and with a wild howl, sank themselves into the youth's right shoulder.

Link let out a ragged shout of pain as he felt the sharp teeth, each one like an icy knife, dig into him. Iamb snarled hungrily, his tail whisking back and forth. Blood ran down the young Hylian's arm and chest, soaking into his tunic in a spreading patch. His world was nothing but the blinding pain, not only of Wolfos fangs, but also of betrayal. He was dimly aware of Navi screaming shrilly, but she sounded worlds away. He cried out, again and again, pleading for help. His final yell trailed off suddenly as he realized that Iamb had pulled out of his shoulder and staggered back. Half-blind with pain, he raised his head a few inches in awe.

The Wolfos was _spitting!_ His tail was curled up under his belly, his ears were low, and he was spitting like someone who had just taken a bite of rotten fruit. He paused every few spits to rub his muzzle against a foreleg. And through the whole thing, he kept flinching and whimpering as if being struck. With a kind of fuzzy amusement, Link realized what had happened.

**

* * *

**

"No, Iamb! Bad! Bad, bad, bad!" Saria scolded. She gave the gray Wolfos pup another swift smack on the muzzle with her fingers. Iamb whined and flinched back. "No biting people! Bad!"

Link rubbed his cheek and saw with mild amazement that there was a streak of red on his hand. He and Saria had been roughhousing with the two cubs, giggling as they dodged snapping jaws and swatting paws. It had been wonderful fun, despite the fact that the Wolfoses were clearly stronger than their Kokiri caretakers. They would leap and twist, darting in close and delivering a few swipes, then leap back. But Iamb, of late, had become a nipper. His preferred target was Link, because the boy was less likely to scold him for using his teeth. On three or four occasions, he had drawn blood, and today was just another one of those days.

"Saria, I think he's got the message," Link offered. The Kokiri girl turned to him and sighed. "Besides, they're just pups. It's normal for them, I'll bet."

"I know, Link...But I don't want him to grow up to be a biter." Saria gave her victim another admonishment of "Bad, Iamb! Very bad!" and a final strike on the nose. "I'm fine with him biting things like sticks and bones, but...not people. He needs to know that nipping to the extend that blood is shed is not acceptable." She turned her head to the side, refusing to acknowledge the penitent Iamb, who was belling up to her feet and whining apologetically.

"I can't help wondering if he's going to grow up hating the taste of blood," the boy mused. "After all this, he'll probably associate blood with getting yelled at and hit." His friend shrugged.

"I don't think so," she said. "He's a predator, so of course he's going to eat meat, and meat has blood." She settled down beside him and took Bicca's head into her lap. "He'll probably just grow up hating the taste of _your_ blood."

A few moments later, Iamb bellied up to Link and licked the child's knee. He wagged his tail once, then flipped over onto his back and whimpered. His green eyes shone with apology. Link smiled and gave his belly a scratch. "You just watch yourself in the future," he warned. "If you don't stop being so nip-happy, those teeth are going to get you into a lot of trouble."

**

* * *

**

But for today, that would have been the last time Iamb ever bit Link.

The boy watched in awe as the Wolfos flinched at memories of past scoldings, memories brought back by the taste of the Hylian's blood. It amazed him that Saria's lessons were still firmly engraved in the Wolfos brother's heart. He sat up slowly and painfully, gripping his wounded shoulder to slow the blood flow. "Iamb," he whispered. The massive brute twitched one last time before turning his head to look at the youth. Link held out his hand. "Come here."

Iamb's tail swished as he wiggled up to the boy on his belly. His eyes, Link noted with interest, were no longer red. Rather, they were a clear, golden yellow, and they half-closed with pleasure as the youth scratched behind his ears. "You remember Saria beating the crap out of you every time you drew blood," he murmured, his voice rough from shouting. "And since you remember that...you remember me, too." He knew he should still be on his guard, that he couldn't be sure this wasn't another trick...But there was an indescribable feeling in the air now, a kind of soothing calm. Something told him that he had nothing to fear from the Wolfos anymore.

The furiously pounding rain had slowed to a gentle patter. Link stood up shakily and limped towards the door. Iamb followed, lending him a shoulder for support as he walked. "I need to wash off my shoulder," the Hylian explained, "before I do anything else. I'm sure I can find a pond or something. I want you to come with me." He hopped off the landing and turned back to watch the Wolfos.

Iamb milled around at the entrance of the Forest Temple uncertainly, his ears flat against his skull. Link realized that this would be the first time that the Wolfos had left the stone sanctuary in years. He whistled encouragingly, and after another moment's hesitation, Iamb leapt down to join him. Link gave him a rub behind the ears and pointed to one of the crumbled stairs. A hollow had formed on its flat side, a hollow that was now filled with rainwater. The youth stripped off his tunic and pulled his undershirt down past his shoulder. Then, with the help of an empty bottle, he started to wash the wound, flinching at how raw and jagged the holes were. The injury ran deep, but the worst of the bleeding seemed to have stopped. "It might be hard for you to get your shield up," Navi pointed out. "But fortunately he didn't grab your sword arm."

"I know," Link murmured, and he reached into his pack for a second bottle. Iamb sniffed the red-filled jar curiously, and, when the boy removed the stopper, drew back from the sharp odor. "Well, this should help. It's probably not enough to completely heal it, but I'll take anything over what it looks like now." And with that, he splashed half of the bottle's contents onto the injury. The sudden, fiery burn elicited a sharp hiss of pain from him, and he watched with grim satisfaction as steam rose up from his bare skin.

"That is some _strong_ stuff, Link" the fairy commented, flicking raindrops off her wings. "Are you sure you should have used so much?"

"The man I bought this from said to be generous with bigger injuries," the boy told her. "Besides, it kinda felt good." He studied his shoulder critically. Shiny scabs covered the bite marks, but when he flexed his arm experimentally, one of the larger holes broke open again. He sighed. "I don't think I'm going to be doing much of anything for the rest of today. At the most, I'll probably change out of these bloody clothes."

"Let's get out of the rain so we can wrap it up," suggested Navi. He nodded, and together they looked back up at the Temple's landing. A few moments of silence passed. "...We probably could have planned this better."

"You mean the fact that I need both hands to use the Hookshot?" Link asked. "Yeah. Well, there's got to be someplace we can shelter for the rest of the day." He paused as Iamb backed up a few paces, then bounded forwards and leapt. The Wolfos easily cleared the landing, and he turned back to looked down at them. The youth laughed. "Iamb, come here." He whistled, and the muscular beast, looking very annoyed, jumped back down again. "Hold steady...This might seem strange to you, but we'll give it a try." Link straddled the patient Wolfos's back and twisted his fingers into the rough mane of fur. "All right—go for it!" Iamb grunted and made the leap a second time.

Once inside the Forest Temple, Link stripped down to just his tights and boots, tossing his blood-soaked tunic and undershirt in a pile by the doorway. He settled down on a pile of leaves and pulled a long strip of fabric from his pack. With Navi's help, he wound it tightly around his injured shoulder. Iamb stayed close by, curving his body around the young man's from behind to keep his steady and warm. They rested together, with Link stroking the Wolfos's sleek head and sighing occasionally. "I know you feel bad about what happened to Bicca," he murmured. "And I want you to know that I don't blame you for it. You weren't yourself then...And even when you killed him, it was out of mercy." Iamb's tail thumped against the floor as he leaned towards the sympathetic voice.

They lay together for hours, with Link telling the Wolfos all he had seen when he had left the Kokiri Forest, and all he had seen of Hyrule as it was now. He confessed his worries about the upcoming challenges he was to face as the Hero of Time, whether he would succeed, or if he would fail all of Hyrule. He had always had a kind of confidence deep down, always known that he would complete each challenge laid before him...but something in the back of his mind nagged him. Talking with Iamb, an animal that he knew would neither pass judgement on his fears nor offer him generic encouragement, was calming. The young man loved how the Wolfos's ears pricked up and his golden eyes seemed to glow with interest with each word. He wondered if Iamb would be willing to travel with him. There was no doubt that the intelligent, strong, bold animal would be an asset to him in his travels. But just as he opened his mouth to ask, a yawn escaped, and the tired youth laid back against the Wolfos's broad shoulder. The rain outside had slowed to a dull murmur, and the sound was lulling both of them to sleep.

With a sigh, Link gave in and closed his eyes. He felt rather than heard Iamb's sigh as the Wolfos let himself be calmed by the gentle rhythm of autumn's rain.

**

* * *

**

A few hours later, Iamb awoke, his heart sick as he realized that the quivering weight against his side was not his sniffly, shivery brother. The cold Temple air was heavy with the sickly-sweet stench of death. The Wolfos stretched from his cramped half-curl and slowly slid his body out from under the sleeping Man's. He paused for a moment to study the face that had only recently become familiar to him. Bicca had been right—it _was_ the green-boy they used to romp with, only now he had grown into a Man. The green-man's face was slightly pinched; his small fangs were bared, and he looked as though he were in pain. Iamb felt a wave of sympathy rise up and wash over his heart at the sight; he gave the creased forehead a gentle lick and was startled by how warm it felt. Surely the Man was cold, with most of his fur lying in a huddle beside the entrance? Snorting to himself, the Wolfos kicked most of the leaf-nest overtop the green-man's bare chest, as he had done for Bicca when the nights were cold.

The thought of his brother made his heart twist painfully, and the massive Wolfos turned his attention to the bloody mess that was Bicca's remains. The smaller Wolfos was stiff, and his whole body reeked of death. Iamb sighed and shook his head. His charming, roguish, playful little brother was gone, and with him a piece of Iamb's heart. Never again would he bolt through the Temple and bark loudly for the sheer joy of making noise, not without his brother to goad him into it. Never again would he prowl through piles of snow, searching for the one hollow drift that concealed the other Wolfos. Bicca had died under his very claws, he realized, standing in the defense of a Man who Iamb felt was pure evil. What treason had led him to mortally wound his own littermate, the one with whom he had shared his nest for so many moons?

The answer filled him with poisonous rage. Iamb began to twist his head from side to side, snarling deep in his chest as he tried in vain to catch his _collar_ between his jaws. The shadow-Man! He wanted to seize that armored shoulder and plunge his teeth into it like he had the green-man's. He wanted to whirl with his talons and sever the horned head from its neck. He wanted to take the hateful Man's throat between his fangs and crush it, so that the grating voice would never again turn him against another. He wanted revenge for his brother's death. He wanted to rip and tear and destroy. He wanted to kill. The burly Wolfos tried desperately to grab the leather strap around his neck so that he could tear it off and be rid of it forever. The shadow-Man had poisoned his mind and turned him against his own brother, and for that, he would pay.

But then, just as he was beginning to feel his reason slip out from beneath his claws, Iamb felt a calming presence behind him. He froze, then grew calm. Bicca was watching him, he was sure of it, and the younger Wolfos would not have approved of his wild rampage of hatred. Iamb sighed, wondering if the green-man would be willing to remove his _collar_ at some point. But now was not the time for that. The green-man was asleep, and something about the uneasy way he lay made Iamb decide that it would be best to let him stay that way. The dead Wolfos in the corner was a more pressing concern, for as the smell of death spread through the Temple, scavengers would appear. Iamb could not bring himself to see his beloved littermate being torn apart by Skulltulas.

He smirked as a thought occurred to him. If the Temple's other residents wanted to treat his brother like prey, then he would, too. He and Bicca used to bury kills that they could not finish eating, so that they could find it and polish it off later. It was an effective way to keep scavengers away. And so, Iamb padded behind the tree on Bicca's side of the room, cautiously making his way around the softly moaning green-man, and began to dig. Making the hole behind the tree was a wonderful idea, he discovered, for the tree's roots had broken up the soil and made it glide through his claws. He wasn't sure how big to make it, so he guessed and made it belly-depth. After a few moments' digging, he stepped out of his new hole and sneezed. Then, with great ceremony and reverence, he padded up to his brother's body.

For what felt like hours, all he could do was stare lovingly at the young Wolfos. Had they been brought up in the Forest by a pack, Bicca certainly would have been a charmer. His thick, mottled pelt was truly eye-catching, much more appealing than Iamb's plain, stormcloud gray. The black stripe running down his spine was an intriguing feature, as well as the black tip on the end of his plumy tail. He was lean and lightly built, and his graceful steps and gay capers would have captured any female's heart. Add all this to his charming, loving demeanor, and clever Bicca would have had no trouble finding himself a mate. Iamb couldn't help a small, shy grin as he realized just how much he loved his brother. Fate had dealt the Wolfoses a cruel hand, and Bicca had played it well. Now it was up to Iamb to finish out the game as best he could without his brother whispering advice in his ear.

His silent eulogy finished, the older Wolfos gripped his brother's scruff gently in his mouth and lifted his stiff body off the ground. Bicca's forepaws dragged on the ground, his claws stirring up the first fallen leaves of the changing season. Iamb laid his sibling belly-down into the hole tenderly, feeling his throat tighten in sorrow. Bicca looked so small now, smaller than he had in life. With his gaping chest pressed against the ground, he almost looked like he was sleeping, and Iamb found the thought soothing. He licked his brother's cheek. "It's cold this morning," he breathed in the Wolfos's soft, furry ear. "I will cover you one last time, to keep you warm, brother." He pushed a pile of dirt into the hollow, narrowing his eyes as it thudded dully over Bicca's pelt. The image of sleep was no longer a comfort; he didn't want to bury the young Wolfos alive! Bicca is dead, he told himself, repeating the phrase each time he shoved another pile of earth into the hole. Only when he could find no more dirt did he open his eyes again.

The hole was gone, and with it, his only brother.

Reverently, the muscular beast patted the earth firmly into place. Then, he flipped his paw over and smoothed it out. "I always loved you, Bicca," he murmured, his heart thudding hollowly in his mighty chest. "Despite what the shadow-Man whispered in my ear. I hope to one day be as weak as he said you were, for your weakness saved the green-man's life at the cost of your own." He sighed and glanced over at the sleeping Man. "You gave your life for him. I will honor your sacrifice and protect him with all my strength." Then, clapping his paws against a tree root to clear them of dirt, Iamb trotted back over to where the green-man lay, a pale smudge in the weak dawnlight, and curled his body around him.

The green-man kept shivering long after Iamb had returned to keep him warm. The Wolfos was silent as he kept the pale Man's strangely warm forehead cool with his tongue. The bright ball of light added her shimmering wings to his efforts, fanning them over the boy's face. They kept a silent vigil, a silence that was punctuated only by the youth's occasional moans. It was a worrying time for Iamb, as he wondered whether the Man would die, making Bicca's brave sacrifice worthless. Then, about an hour after Iamb had returned to the leaf-nest, the green-man gave a sharp gasp, and his forehead was suddenly covered in salty water. He stopped groaning after that, and when the Wolfos licked his brow again, it was no longer hot. Satisfied, the burly animal settled down for a nap, wondering if the Man would awaken soon.

**

* * *

**

Link sat up slowly, cradling his head in his left hand. His right arm was curled loosely against his abdomen to keep his stiff shoulder from throbbing too much. He felt sore and tired, but strangely healthier than he had when he'd lain down to sleep. Navi hummed against his cheek worriedly, rubbing her furry body against his face. "How do you feel?" she asked. "Dizzy? Weak? Do you want me to get you anything?" The boy stared dazedly at her, his blue eyes full of questions. "You were running a terrible fever all last night and most of this morning," the fairy told him bluntly. "I was worried sick about you."

"Sorry to worry you," murmured Link. "No, I feel fine now. Tired, yes, and I'd love to spend another day recovering from the whole affair—but we don't have time." He rubbed his hands briskly up and down his bare arms, then reached for his pack. It didn't take him long to find a clean undershirt and tunic, and once he was dressed the Temple didn't seem so cold anymore. Iamb trotted behind him as he made his way to the doorway. "I'd like to do something for Bicca before we move onto the Temple though—maybe just something as simple as cremation." As he spoke, his palms glowed warmly as the Goddess of Power's magic began to come to life.

"The other Wolfos? He's gone."

Link started. "Gone?" he echoed. "What do you mean?" He looked over his shoulder at the corner where the Wolfos's corpse had rested. True to the fairy's words, the body was nowhere to be seen. The youth looked at the Wolfos standing beside him. "Iamb, where's Bicca?" he asked. Iamb's yellow eyes lit up with understanding, and he flicked his tail for the Hylian to follow. Link did so, and when he saw the smooth mound of earth, he dropped to his knees beside it and buried his face in his gauntleted hands. As if they had seen the tears sliding silently down his covered face, Navi snuggled against his neck and Iamb pressed his flank to the boy's uninjured shoulder.

"I just can't believe it," the youth choked out softly. "He really _is_ gone." The Hero of Time's shoulders shook with quiet sobs as he tried to keep his grief as dignified as possible. He was too old to be crying like this; and besides, he was supposed to be a legendary Hero, and heroes didn't cry. He took one hand away from his face and rested it on the grave. Iamb placed his massive forepaw over the hand, keeping most of his weight tactfully on his other three legs. After a minute, Link lifted his hand, and Iamb removed his paw. "There's something I want to do for him," he breathed, taking his other hand away from his face. His eyes were slightly red, and the blurred trails of tears smudged his cheeks with wetness. "And I hope you won't mind it, Iamb."

From there, he started to gather up a small pile of gray stones. They were likely chips of rock from the walls, left over from the Temple's creation. With the kind of calm that only tears can give, Link arranged the stones into the rough outline of three triangles, pressing them into the dirt to keep them in place. The end result was a grave marker in the shape of the Triforce. "The Goddesses will see their mark and protect him," the youth explained, giving Iamb a rub behind the ears. "Although, it's only meant to be a more lasting marker than the one we left together—which I'm sure Bicca would have liked even better." He pointed.

There, in the center of the mound, was the imprint of the Hylian's hand...surrounded by the pawprint of the Wolfos.

**

* * *

**

Iamb trotted off into the darkness of the Forest Temple to hunt for his lunch, while Link sat in the front room with a piece of dried meat. He leaned back against the greystone wall as he gnawed thoughtfully. "Are you sure you don't want to rest a little more before we head off?" Navi asked, humming around him like a worried mother. The youth shook his head and swallowed.

"Navi, I've already wasted too much time," he said with a sigh. "Besides, I told you, I feel fine." The fairy flashed red for a few seconds, her impatience with the youth evident. Link smirked silently as he batted his blue companion out of the air like a kitten. "I prmoise I'll take a rest if you think I should," he continued to forestall another flash of red. "But really, Navi—"

"We wasted too much time," Navi mimicked. The boy laughed. "The Temple isn't going anywhere, you know. But if you insist, I guess we could go once Iamb gets back." She rested on his shoulder gently. "Hard to believe just yesterday he was ready to eat you alive, huh?"

An irate grumble startled the fairy into the air, and she quickly took refuge in Link's hat. Iamb was standing at the opposite end of the room, the shattered shell of a Skulltula at his feet. Apparently he had joined them for lunch just in time to hear Navi's comment. His golden eyes held a light of incredulity, and he stepped over to sit beside the Hylian with his nose and tail in the air haughtily. Link gave the Wolfos a scratch behind the ears. "Iamb, we're ready to go deeper inside the Temple," he said. "Would you like to come with us?" Iamb nodded, though his stiff fur said he was not tagging along merely for the company. _A Wolfos with a mission,_ the youth remarked silently, grinning at how strange the words sounded. "I'm sure that by now you know Navi," he added as the fairy peeked over his ear nervously. "She might take a while to get used to, but trust me, she's a friend worth having." Iamb stretched up his neck and gave the nervous fairy a quick sniff, sneezing at the sparkling dust her wings shed.

The rest of the brief lunch was carried out in silence, with each member of the bizarre party thinking their own silent thoughts. Then, with a slowness that suggested he feared for his balance, Link stood. Iamb was next, pushing himself close to the youth for support. Blue eyes met gold, and the two started towards the darkest heart of the Forest Temple. Navi hummed ahead of them, her blue glow casting a faint light into the darkened passageway.


	16. Chapter 16

**This chapter is not—I repeat, not—a walkthrough for the Forest Temple. Seriously, I'm taking a **_**lot**_** of artistic liberties with this chapter and the ones that will follow it. So, those who know the Temple frontwards and backwards will just have to bear with me.**

Iamb reasoned he had forgotten the scent of the Light, that bright, powerful, searing odor that filled his mind with silver. That had to be why the green-man's Light-smell was so overwhelming. The Wolfos drank the odor in greedily, his heart hammering happily against his ribs with every breath. Even as the day wore on and it became tinged with the sharp edge of sweat, he still could not get enough. Like a castaway who has seen civilization after years of isolation falls in love with the first city he sees, so Iamb became enamored with the smell of the Light. It reminded him, in a bittersweet way, of his brother; Bicca had loved the Light and had spoken of it often.

The massive Wolfos trotted loyally beside the young Man through the hall, his nose twitching in disgust at the powerful reek of Darkness. He couldn't—didn't want to—believe that it was as strong as his senses told him. He was ashamed of himself. As a Temple Guardian, he should have taken a more active role in keeping his Temple safe. It was because of his negligence that evil had been allowed to take root. To console himself, he took another sniff of the green-man's paw and flooded his throat and mind with the cleansing burn of Light.

The green-man entered the main room first, followed closely by his gray, furry shadow. Iamb let out a snarl to match his gasp of surprise as not one, or two, but _four_ floating Men swirled into existence and snatched the flames from the torches. They spun again, and vanished from sight. The Wolfos lunged ahead, landing on all four paws on the lowering platform. It did not sink down, but stayed steady, as if it were just another part of the floor. Iamb rumbled in frustration in his mighty chest. So the platform needed its fire to work? No matter. The broodingly intelligent creature gave a satisfied snort. He knew where at least two of the floating Men lurked—the picture-halls.

When the green-man and his ball of light drew near, Iamb relayed this information to them. The Navi, as the young Man called his light-ball, translated his rough barks into Man-speech. The two shared a brief exchange, then the Navi asked Iamb, "Will you show us where the picture-halls are?" The Wolfos nodded.

"There's a bit of running around we have to do first," he explained to the Navi, who acted again as an interpreter. "But if you trust me, I can lead you there." The green-man nodded seriously, and Iamb set off at a brisk trot towards the first door on his left. "Be careful in this room, green-man...There are floating skulls that will swoop at you, and their fire burns like ice."

The door reared up before him, and for a moment, Iamb was hesitant. It was sealed with the round knob that Bicca always used to open with a lithe roll of his shoulders. The burly Iamb had never quite gotten the hang of the maneuver, and he wondered if his inadequacies would stop the Man in his quest then and there. He balked in front of the door and let out a frustrated whine. Just as he was preparing his apology to the green-man, the youth stepped forward and put a forepaw around the knob—wrapped it around the knob completely! Iamb was amazed as the youth twisted his wrist and gave the door a gentle push. It creaked open on its hinges, and Iamb, still in awe of the dextrous paws of Men, slipped through.

Almost immediately, he wrapped his forelegs over his head protectively. He could hear the rattling, crackling sounds of the floating skulls, and smell their alien flames. He peeked between his claws to watch the ensuing battle. The Navi let loose a shrill cry and darted from skull to skull, while the green-man thrust his metal leaf at them. Once struck by the metal leaf, the skulls lost their fire and were reduced to bobbing around on the floor with comical chuckling sounds. Iamb flagged his tail up aggressively and lashed out with his long talons. Many were the times he and his brother had dodged these monsters with tucked tails and flat ears. Now that they were at his mercy, the Wolfos felt a powerful, vindictive urge rise up in his chest. He slashed and snarled, stopping his assault only when his skeletal opponent fell to pieces. As cocky as a pup, Iamb wasted no time lifting a leg to urinate on the pieces. He heard the laugh of the green-man, then felt his short claws scratching gently behind his furry ears.

The door at the opposite end of the room needed no turning of knobs; it simply slid up when Wolfos and Man approached. The passage it led to was dark and small, with only a little flickering light cast from a torch on the wall. Iamb led the way up the narrow flight of stairs, turning over his shoulder every so often to check up on the green-man. He'd been rubbing his shoulder after the fight with the floating skulls, and the Wolfos wondered just how much it was bothering him. He gave an encouraging wag of his tail as he bounded up the last few stairs, then sat down in front of the door. This one would require the use of the green-man's nimble forepaws to open, and fortunately the youth was not long in opening it.

Iamb heard a gasp of wonder behind him and smiled. Yes...he and Bicca had taken quite a bit of time with this room, shouldering giant stone blocks around until the path had been made clear. Well, clear enough for two fully-grown Hylian Wolfoses, at any rate. There were one or two spots where Iamb, seated atop one of the blocks, had had to grip the green-man's scruff and lift him over. With their long legs, the Wolfos brothers had had no trouble leaping smoothly over the chunks of stone, and thus had not bothered to create a truly _clear _path. At the end of the winding route, Iamb bounded ahead, jumped atop a spare block, then with the smooth swiftness that his burly frame belied, ricocheted off the wall to land on the second level. There was a contraption made of wood leaning against the wall that, now that he thought of it, looked just perfect for his two-legged companion to climb up. He wagged and pointed with his nose, just in case the green-man couldn't see.

He gave the youth a moment to rest before he spoke to the Navi. "The hall ahead is...strange," he barked. "We found that the best way to get past it is to keep your eyes focused on the end, and not look to the sides if you can help it."

"Is this where we'll find the Poes?" the Navi asked. Iamb tilted his head to the side in confusion. "The things that stole the fire in the main room—they're called Poes." The Wolfos shook his head.

"No. The picture-hall is further still," he murmured. "I _did_ say it would take a bit of running around."

Once the green-man was back on his feet, Iamb bounded towards the twisted hall. His stomach began to churn almost immediately. He kept his eyes narrowed and clenched his fangs. The first time he and Bicca had encountered this part of the Temple, the two had been overcome with vertigo, and had lain on the floor for hours, kicking their paws giddily. Perhaps the worst part was the way that the hallway seemed to twist _as you ran through it_, so that it appeared to be perfectly straight at the end. Iamb risked a glance over his shoulder and saw with satisfaction that the green-man was darting bravely behind him, his head low. At the end of the hall, Iamb unwound with a flying leap that carried him to the stone pillar across from the hall. "Be careful—the hall just _ends_ suddenly," he called over his shoulder.

His warning was delivered too late, it seemed, for the clearly-dizzy youth ran right over the edge of the hallway to land with surprising grace (considering his lightheadedness) on the floor below. Iamb sighed and began looking for a way to get the green-man up with him. He turned his back on the boy and studied the ladder hanging, quite randomly, in the middle of the wall. Perhaps if he could find some way to—

"_Gkt_—UAAAAAAA!"

The Wolfos whirled around in surprise, only to see the green-man being hauled up towards the ceiling by what looked like a green Man's forepaw. The youth was kicking and struggling, and the Navi was zipping frantically around him. The strangled cry had come from the young Man. Iamb watched him speed out of sight, then let out a heavy sigh. "That was not what I had planned on," he muttered, and leapt angrily back across to the twisted hall.

**

* * *

**

"What in the hells _was_ that thing?" Link demanded, rubbing his sore throat tenderly. He checked his reflection in the Master Sword's gleaming blade for any signs of bruising. The hand-like monster had grabbed him by the neck and hauled him at breakneck speed through the Temple, dropping him off at the entrance. Navi brushed his cheek gently to soothe him.

"A Wallmaster," she replied. "I guess we have to be quicker in that part of the Temple." She sighed. "But, at least we know it's there..._and_ that that crazy hallway stops without any kind of landing."

The boy nodded. "I just hope Iamb is o—" He broke off there as the Wolfos appeared at the other end of the entrance room, looking annoyed and winded. "I'm sorry, Iamb. I wasn't thinking back there."

The Wolfos shrugged and began to bark and growl. "He says that it was his fault, too," Navi translated. "He should have warned you about it beforehand. Apparently he and his brother have run into that Wallmaster before, so that's how he knew where to find you."

Link sighed. "And now we have to go through all of those rooms _again_," he complained under his breath. He blew out his breath in an impatient huff, and then, as if all of his negative energy had been expelled by that gesture, brightened up and started for the door. "Guess we'd better get moving."

**

* * *

**

It took two more run-ins with the hand-beast before the green-man finally learned to make the jump from hall to pillar with a spinning head. Each time, Iamb would race through the Temple at top speed, skidding to a halt at the end of that first hallway to meet up with his partner. Each time they would start again. They would battle the floating skulls, climb stairs, walk through the block-room (and Iamb would pull his companion over the same blocks each time), race through the twisted hall...

He loved the green-man dearly...but the boy was a slow learner, it seemed.

Finally, on their fourth run through the Temple, the youth seemed to catch on at long last. He made a flying, though not exactly graceful, leap across the gap. Iamb whirled on him, shoving him through the gap in the wall that led to the next room without warning. He knew it was mean, and the green-man had yelled at him once he made it back on his hind paws...But frankly, the massive Wolfos just wasn't in the mood for another mad dash through the Forest Temple to rescue his friend from the clutches of the hand-beast. He made the leap himself and started down the passageway that led to the picture-hall. "We're getting close," he growled. "Finally..."

Iamb couldn't help a twinge of remorse as he stepped into the picture-hall. The last time he'd been here was with Bicca. It had been the last time that the massive Wolfos could recall actually _feeling_ the Darkness. He'd scented it on one of the pictures on the wall, the portrait of the blue Man, and he and his brother had lashed out against it. The memory filled him with a warmth that drove away his initial unease. He and Bicca had made the Darkness cower before them, if only for a short while. With a glance at the green-man, whose pelt was practically _blazing_ with Light-smell, Iamb knew that this time the shadows would not relax from their flinching. The muscular brute started up the stairs, noting with curiosity that the image of the Man was no longer in its frame. Could it be that Bicca's claws—all those years ago—had so damaged the frame that the Poe, as the Navi called it, could no longer inhabit it?

The green-man seemed just as confused as Iamb. He brushed the dented, tilted frame gingerly with a paw. "My brother did that," Iamb told him proudly, feeling a wash of sorrow at the memory of his cheerful littermate. "I guess the Poe can't hide in the frame anymore."

"So it would seem," the youth murmured after the Navi had translated. "Well, that makes our job easier, doesn't it?"

"Does it?" Iamb asked, tilting his head to the side. He considered this for a moment, then nodded. "Yes...because we only need to destroy one frame instead of two. And, if it can't hide in this frame, then we have it trapped in the other." He nodded again, then led the way up the second flight, where the other frame stood. It cackled, somewhat nervously, as boy and Wolfos approached it with grim determination. The green-boy sliced down the center of the image with his shiny-stick, and with a drawn-out scream, the Poe appeared from the torn canvas. It wiggled its glowing lantern **(1)** tauntingly in their faces, then spun airily and vanished from sight. Only the lantern remained visible, and it streaked straight for the green-man.

The youth knocked it back with a quick slap of his metal leaf, filling the narrow passageway with the scream of metal and glass. His dark eyes flicked back and forth, following the swinging lantern carefully. When the Poe reappeared, he lashed out from the front, while Iamb struck from behind. The ghost screeched as she bobbed away from the angry pair. Iamb and the green-man exchanged congratulatory glances before focusing on the task at hand. The Poe ducked down low again and disappeared with a whirl. Iamb jumped the cue to attack, raking his claws eagerly through the empty air behind the lantern. His brave efforts went unrewarded, and the intelligent beast stored away the information that the Poe-ghost could not be struck unless it could be seen.

Unperturbed by the Wolfos's assault, the Poe's lantern made another move against the young Man, who fended off the blow with his metal leaf. The lantern dipped and floated as it moved around the green-man, who shuffled nimbly to keep it always in front of him. Iamb padded in front of the green-man like a reflection in a clear pond, his yellow gaze flickering from Man to Poe to make sure he stayed properly aligned. A double strike like the previous one would end this fight all the faster. His eyes narrowed calculatingly as the Poe reappeared. He lunged and sliced with his claws, feeling a slight, uncomfortable rubbing sensation as the green-man's shiny stick grazed the side of his talon. The Poe let out the dying shriek of conquered prey and dissolved into a cloud of smoke. Her lantern fell to the ground and shattered. The Navi hovered by the blue fire. She seemed to be listening to something, perhaps the slowly fading screams of the ghost.

"She was one of the Poe Sisters," she reported at length. "I'd heard rumors of them, but I never thought I'd actually see them." Her sparkling body shuddered, and Iamb offered her a nose-bump of comfort.

"You seem worried. Are they really that terrible?" the boy asked, kneeling down beside the flame. He swept out a glass bottle and trapped the fire inside deftly. Iamb stretched his neck out to observe the strange fire more closely. "We'll take this to that main room and set it back on the torch," the green-man whispered to his Wolfos companion. Iamb nodded in understanding.

"Are they really that terrible?" the Navi repeated. "That all depends on how you define terrible, I suppose. They're just like every other Poe we've encountered so far on our journey—you can kill them and bottle the condensed hatred that they call their soul—but they've got a little something extra." She drifted towards the ripped portrait. "There are four of them: Meg, Joelle, Beth, and Amy. They call themselves sisters, and the fact that they've allied with others of their kind makes them stronger. They call on each other for help, rather than fighting on their own."

"None of the others appeared. This one didn't call for help," the youth pointed out, holding up the bottle. The Navi turned to face him.

"No," she admitted. "But she called for revenge. We've taken down Beth, the second-youngest of the four, and her sisters will not let us go easily." The boy gently tucked the bottle containing the Poe's fire, stolen from the torches in the main room, into his pack. Then he stood and gathered the Navi into his paws.

"We can take them down, Navi. Don't you worry about a thing." He tossed the fairy lightly into the air and started for the door, which had been waiting silently for the three of them ever since the Poe's defeat. Iamb trotted behind him, noting again that the boy was rubbing his shoulder.

**

* * *

**

"Hey! Watch out!" Navi cried, her body flashing an anxious yellow. Link took his left hand away from his shoulder and put it instead to the waiting Master Sword. Two shadows had just reared up on the other side of the room, and they were advancing rapidly with hollow, rattling footfalls. Beside the boy, Iamb tensed and let out a wary snarl. His tail was held stiffly upright, a gray flag of warning to the intruders in his Temple. The figures stepped into the light, and the young Hylian let out a short murmur of interest.

"Stalfos," he mused. He remembered the stories of the Great Deku Tree from long ago, stories meant to warn the inquisitive Kokiri away from the Lost Woods. The children would become Skullkids, losing their faces, names, and any other remnants of the light into which they had been born. But any Outsiders who ventured into the Forest would become Stalfos, bone-warriors, whose only desire was to drag others down into the darkness with them. He could still hear the Tree's creaking voice as he told the small crowd of listening Kokiri: _But you have nothing to fear from the Stalfos, should you encounter them. They are the remnants of Outsiders, and like the Outsiders, they want nothing to do with my children. No Stalfos will harm a Kokiri. _The youth's brow furrowed as he remembered what the Sage of Light, Rauru had told him: That he was, despite where and how he had been raised, a Hylian—an Outsider! Navi's sharp yelling jerked Link back to the present, and he drew his sword eagerly.

The Stalfos circled around him, its own jagged blade drawn and gleaming. The youth lunged with a loud cry...only to be knocked back as the Stalfos raised its shield in defense. It chuckled softly at some private joke **(2)**, and Link skipped back a few steps to avoid its coming strike. He raised his shield, wincing at the shriek of metal on metal, then unwound with a slash of his own. His brave retaliation earned him a moment of satisfaction as the Stalfos fell back with a groan. Three of its ribs broke away and clattered to the floor. "I'll take you apart bone by bone," Link growled. The Stalfos laughed, and began to weave around the youth once more. "What's so funny?"

"Not like I can't hear you, boy," the skeleton said in a voice like a dusty, rusted hinge creaking open. "When you think so loudly." It leapt back as the Hylian youth made another thrust. "Even my brother can hear you." It jerked its skull in the direction of the second Stalfos, who was currently exchanging blows with Iamb.

Link scowled, raising his shield against the Stalfos's slice, and countered with one of his own before it had a chance to raise its guard. Two more ribs fell to the ground, followed by one of the monster's collarbones. "And what am I thinking about that amuses you so?" the boy asked. He dove to the side as his opponent swung its sword again, flinching as a few strands of severed, golden-blonde hair fell in front of his eyes. The Stalfos laughed again.

"You're still trying to live"—it broke off as the youth's sword slid under its breastbone and pulled back towards its wielder; its remaining ribs fell to the floor in a dusty heap—"live a lie," it finished, its voice tempered with a cruel, taunting edge. Link leapt for another swift attack, but the Stalfos thrust him away with its shield deftly.

"What lie?" the boy demanded, half-heartedly stretching his aching right shoulder. The Stalfos's ringing blows had sent it throbbing, but the sting of its words were hurting him even more. The skeleton scoffed.

"As if you don't know, boy," it creaked maliciously. "The lie. The big lie. You were never meant to call these woods your home. Or those children in the village your friends." It slashed out, and the force of its assault sent the young man reeling backwards. Link found himself backed up against the wall, with the monster's rusty blade dangerously near his throat. The painfully bright fires burning in the eye sockets of its skull seared into his heart. "It was all a lie," the Stalfos continued. "The first ten years of your life were nothing but lies."

"You're wrong," the youth snapped. "Even if I wasn't born here, the Forest is my home, and the Kokiri, my friends."

"They never cared about you," the Stalfos told him viciously. "They only cared about that one girl thought—they didn't want to look bad in front of her. None of them ever cared about you, not once in their lives." It pushed its face close to Link's, and its rotten breath made the boy retch. "After all...you weren't one of them." The boy gasped sharply, struck across the face again by the words, words that had sounded brutally harsh even when they had come from the kind mouth of Rauru. **(3)**

"You are an Outsider, something to be feared and hated. Something to be shunned," the Stalfos continued. Its eyes glinted. "Dark. Hated. Foreign. Forbidden. Poor little boy, all alone. No one ever held your hand when you cried then. And no one is here to do it now." It added the last words with an almost pitying tone of voice, for the youth was now clearly blinking back tears. "Why didn't you embrace your shadowed heart while you were younger?" it asked. "The little Skullkid imps. They would have loved a brother like you. It would have been the only time someone would want to be your friend."

A single tear streaked down Link's cheek and dripped onto the Stalfos's blade. The Hylian was not sobbing, but breathing slowly and calmly. His eyes were dark and wet, but no more tears slid from them. The room was silent. Iamb and the other Stalfos—who had been reduced to a skull, a spine, its sword arm, and one leg—stopped their battle to watch. Link, his heart thundering in his pointed ears, lifted his eyes to meet the Stalfos's burning gaze. In a voice that was shaky, but free from the tightness of crying, he said softly, "I _am_ a Kokiri."

"It was nothing but a lie," the skeleton shot back, though it sounded a little uncertain in the face of such boldness. "The big lie. You were never one of them." The youth flinched from the words. "You lived here without belonging. Something that every living creature needs—to belong. You are an Outsider."

"I am a Kokiri," the Hero repeated simply, his voice a little steadier and louder this time. The Stalfos laughed loudly, as if trying to drown out any echoes of the youth's bold statement. It pushed its sword a little closer, until the edge of the blade was against Link's neck.

"If you were one of them, then why am I attacking you?" it asked coyly. "The infernal Tree said it. You thought it. All of them believe it. The bone-warriors want nothing to do with Forest children. And we don't. We live off of hatred and the darkness of men's hearts. Children have no such feelings. You are an Outsider. A filthy, foreign, Forbidden Outsider."

Link bowed his head and sighed. The Stalfos continued, its voice hard-edged with triumph, "Give it up, Hero-boy. You know I speak the truth. None of the Forest brats ever liked you. They all knew your secret before you did. Your big lie. They knew who you _really_ were. That's why they all stayed away from you, never letting you play their games or sing their songs or hear their stories. You were an Outsider then, and you still are today. You're not one of them. You never belonged. That Wolfos is more Kokiri than you could ever hope to be. You are an Outsider. A lonely, loathed, unlovable Outsi—"

The youth's sword arm flashed up suddenly and swept across the Stalfos's chest with blinding speed. The skeleton watched in silent horror as its left arm clattered to the ground harmlessly, and with it, its ragged-edged sword. Its fiery eyes flared in amazement at the young man, his head still lowered, standing before it. Link raised his head slowly, his blue eyes snapping with angry fire that made the Stalfos's look like a flint-spark compared to the sun. His teeth were bared in a snarl of pure fury. His stomach was burning with hatred for the bone-warrior, a hatred with intensity he had never felt before in his life. His voice echoed off the stone walls around him like thunder as he roared, "DAMN YOU TO THE LOWEST OF HELLS!! I AM A KOKIRI!!!"

With the reverberations of his shout still ringing through the air, Link lunged to attack his now-weaponless opponent. The Master Sword's bright blade flashed over the skeleton again and again, sending its bones flying in every direction. The youth was only dimly aware of the Stalfos's pleas for mercy as he hacked it to pieces. He knew nothing but blind rage as he attacked, felt nothing but satisfaction for the scattered bones and contempt for those still attached to the body. Only vaguely did he realize that _blind_ was a good word to describe his anger, for the world was dark and blurry to him. His throat ached with every frenzied thrust of his sword. Yell after yell tore free from his chest, ripping through his tight throat. Finally, after a burst of energy that seemed to come and go in an instant, the Hero collapsed onto his hands and knees, utterly exhausted.

The Stalfos had been completely dismantled, with its bones strewn all throughout the room like the shattered husk of a burst Deku Nut. Nothing was intact, save for the arm that Link had shorn off at the beginning of his wild assault. Even the spine lay in ruin; each vertebra was separated from the whole. The boy pushed himself back onto his feet, breathing heavily. He was ready to give voice to the furious joy building up inside his chest, when a dusty, rusted voice whispered, "Good show, boy. But you're still an Outsider."

Disgustedly, Link made his way over to the spot where the skull of the Stalfos rested on the floor. He glared down at the dry bones, his expression unreadable. The Stalfos continued as if it and the Hylian were old friends. "You can scatter my dust to the Four Winds. You can drown my skull in the ocean. Do whatever you like to what's left of my body. But no matter what you do, there is one thing you can't dispose of, one truth you can't hide from the ages. _You are an Outsider!_"

Link sighed and offered the skull a bitter smile. "I am a Kokiri in my heart," he whispered. "And that's all that matters." Then, without waiting for any kind of response, he raised a foot and crushed the skull to dust beneath his heavy boot. When Iamb made his way to stand by the youth, Link rested a shaking hand gently on the Wolfos's broad, bloody shoulder. Two spots of wet appeared in the bone-dust, their impact sending up two small clouds of the fine, sandy debris. The young Hylian sniffed quietly. "Let's get you cleaned up, Iamb," he murmured, not even trying to hide the tightness in his voice. He had never felt happier than when the muscular beast leaned up against him, as if to say_ It doesn't matter what the Stalfos said. I'll be here for you even if you are an Outsider. _

**(1) I know that in the game they're torches. But lanterns seemed more practical to me.**

**(2) I really hated how the Stalfos would laugh at you. It always seemed to me that they knew something and were trying to rub it in your face.**

**(3) If you read the manga, either on Zelda Infinite or from an actual book (the first book of the OoT manga has been translated!), you'll see Link have this adorable little crisis when Rauru tells him he's actually a Hylian.  
**


	17. Chapter 17

Navi said nothing about Link's fit of rage, and the youth was grateful to her for that. He knew that she was just as shocked by it as he was; only a handful of times had he let his temper escape his control and flare up so passionately. But the Stalfos's words had bothered him greatly. _I know I'm a Hylian,_ the boy thought as he wrapped a long strip of cloth tightly around Iamb's middle. While Link had been tearing the first Stalfos apart, the Wolfos had received a long slash that ran down the first half of his back from the second._ There's no need to rub it in my face._ As he thought the word "face", Iamb's tongue shot out and dragged across his cheek, where the salt of the youth's tears still clung like a thin coating of mud. The boy tumbled back, laughing and yelling playful insults at the massive beast. When he righted himself, Link reached out and grabbed the Wolfos by the ruff of fur surrounding his throat.

"You—I'm gonna get you for that!" he threatened, worrying the big Wolfos's ruff with his hands playfully. Iamb watched him with a look somewhat akin to skepticism in his yellow eyes. The Hylian laughed again. "C'mon, you big lump! If your back's not hurting you too much, then play with me!" Iamb narrowed his eyes and lunged, knocking the boy clean onto the floor. Link growled and continued to tousle the thick mane in his hands, even though he knew Iamb probably didn't feel anything he was doing. A jingling sound attracted his attention. "Nav? Is that you?" he asked.

"Is what me?" the fairy asked.

"Clinking or jingling or something like that," the boy told her. "Didn't you hear it? I thought it was you." Iamb whuffed softly, causing both of them to look at him. The burly Wolfos tipped back his head and wriggled his shoulders a little. The sound persisted. Link pushed himself up and felt around under his companion's pelt until he found the source of the noise. "What's this? A collar...?" Saria would never collar her beloved Wolfoses. She loved them, wanted them to be as wild and free as their mother had been. Where had Iamb gotten a collar?

"He says that someone down in the lower levels of the Temple gave it to him," said Navi. "Someone he calls the _shadow-Man_. He wants to know if you'd be willing to remove it for him. It's been bothering him quite a bit."

"I'll see what I can do," the youth murmured, feeling around the black leather band for any kind of latch, clip, or tie. He found none, and reached for the dagger sheathed at his hip. Iamb twitched, eyeing the blade nervously. "Don't worry, Iamb. I promise I won't hurt you." The beast sat still as Link reached under the collar with the dagger and attempted to cut it away. No sooner had metal met leather than sparks red as the sunset showered around the blade; Link and Iamb yelped and stumbled away from each other. Gleaming metal plating shot from the boxes on Iamb's collar, covering the upper half of his body in formidable armor. He sat tense as the plating pushed out wicked-looking spines, his nose wrinkled in distaste. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the plating retreated back into the boxes on the collar. Link whistled low in surprise. "I think that collar is staying put for a while," he said. "At least until we think of a better plan."

"Speaking of better plans, you might want to check out what the two Stalfos were guarding," Navi told him mildly. She flicked her delicate wings towards the dusty, wooden chest that lay, seemingly forgotten, on the opposite side of the room. Link stood, stretched stiffly, and strode over with the light of curiosity in his eyes. He studied the chest briefly, then flipped up the latch that held it shut and pushed up the lid. Both hands reached inside and pulled out the treasures snuggled within. He held them up triumphantly, his eyes shining with wonder.

"I can't believe this," he whispered happily. "The Great Deku Tree would always tell us stories about this weapon, but I never thought I'd actually get to see it—or use it!" He looked at Navi and Iamb, both of whom were staring at him strangely. "It's the Fairy Bow," he explained calmly, setting his shield down momentarily so that he could slide the strap of the quiver over his shoulder. "I guess this is Fate's way of telling me I'm too old to still use a slingshot." Navi laughed, like the chiming of a small silver bell.

"I'll bet this is going to come in handy as we go deeper into the Temple," she said.

"Especially in the remaining picture-hall." Link hardly noticed his use of the Wolfos's word, though it sent Navi into further spasms of laughter. He held the bow out, trying to get a feel for its grip. He plucked the string experimentally and listened to the rich note that hummed through the air. "Think about it, Nav! I bet if I send an arrow into one of those portraits, I can send the next Poe packing!" He lowered the bow and looked at his two companions, in particular Iamb. "I guess we could give it a try, and if it doesn't work, we'll go at it the same way as we did last time." The Wolfos nodded in understanding.

* * *

"Ah, damn it!" the youth swore irritably as his penultimate arrow sang through the air, only to come to a jarring stop as it collided with the wall slightly below the painting. The red-garbed Poe hidden within cackled. "That's enough out of you. This last arrow will put you in your place!" And so he fired again, only to stomp his foot in frustration as the projectile failed to carry out his threat. Sighing, the young Hylian walked up the stairs to gather his arrows for another try. The painting gave a whooshing cackle and vanished, but he failed to notice.

"So...Some practice might be a good idea?" Navi offered. Link grunted in reply. "Well, this seems like good enough practice to me. Give yourself time to adjust, Link. It's a new weapon—you've never fired a bow before. You came pretty close that last time, though!"

"Close only counts in Dampe's crypt-race, Bombchu Bowling, and moonlight encounters,"** (1)** the boy retorted grimly as he scooped up the full round of ammunition. Navi smothered a laugh at the expression. "I'll get it this time, I guess." He frowned as he slid a handful of arrows gently back into the quiver. "Twenty tries should be enough to help even the poorest aim. Maybe shooting down would be easier." Once the last arrow was safely inside his quiver, Link stood and walked up the second flight of stairs. Iamb trotted behind him, his ears flat with obvious impatience. The portrait at the top of the second flight cackled and vanished, only to reappear on the lower level.

The Hylian youth crouched at the top of the stairs, pointing his arrow down toward the painting on the landing below. He closed one eye and sighted along the shaft carefully. He took in a slow, deep breath, and released his fingers from the back of the arrow on the exhale. The feathered shaft whistled through the quiet air to land with a soft _thump_ in the canvas. The Poe in the painting glanced up at the arrow with a kind of amused indifference. That carefree look annoyed Link, and the young man readied another arrow swiftly. His second shot was fired off with much less hesitation than the first, and he was rewarded with the screech of the angry ghost as her painting began to sear and smoke. In an instant, there was nothing left except an empty frame.

Link turned and aimed his bow at the portrait behind him, a roguish grin stealing across his face. With his hands still buzzing with the energy of his victory, he fired again. That arrow, plus another two just like it, bounced off either the frame or the wall behind it. The air was filled with the sounds of distant giggles; the Poe was laughing at him. The youth's ears burned red with shame as he settled the fourth arrow into the bowstring. He pulled back until bow and string formed a circle, then released. The Poe's laughter turned to a shriek of anger as her painting smoked around her. She darted into the open, only to stop dead as she met with the tip of another shaft. "I'm close enough now that I can't miss you," Link said with a grin. He fired, but the Poe moved faster, and vanished into thin air with a cackle. Only her swinging lantern was visible.

The fight against the second Poe Sister proceeded in a very similar fashion as the first. At the end, Link captured the red flames in another bottle, then looked up at Navi. The fairy twitched anxiously. "That was Joelle," she whispered, zooming closer so that her body just barely touched the smooth glass. "She's the second oldest Sister."

"Did she also call for revenge?" the youth asked. Navi shook her body side to side, then balked.

"Well...yes, she did. But there was something else. She told her other sisters to hide." The fairy quivered. "But I could hear them reply, as if the two remaining Poe Sisters were on their way to confront you here." There was a surprising note of urgency in her voice.

"What did they say?" Link asked as he stowed the second bottle in his pack. Navi hesitated.

"Nothing important," she admitted at length. "Just...they were ready to come _here_, to attack you personally!" The boy reached out and took the fairy in his cupped hands. He held her close to calm her down, murmuring soothingly. He knew that Navi had not been assigned a child to guard for many years, because the last two Kokiri she had been given to protect walked the shadows of the Lost Woods. Now Skullkids, they sat in the trees and blew sad tunes on reed flutes, wondering where their beloved fairy had gone. Navi seemed to sense that he was thinking about this, because she whimpered, "I don't want to fail a third time. Especially not with you, Link."

"Hush, I'm safe," the Hylian told her gently. "Rest in my hat for a while." He tossed her lightly into the air, and watched from the corners of his eyes as she disappeared into the loose folds of his green cap. "Iamb will keep an eye on me while you settle." He waited for her murmur of consent before nodding to the patient Wolfos. Together, the two of them headed through the door, and down the short flight of stairs. Surprisingly enough, the stairs led back into the main room.

Link's first move was to take the two bottles straight to the pedestal in the center of the room. There, he emptied first Beth's, then Joelle's stolen flames onto two of the torches. He stepped back and gave Iamb a scratch behind the ears. "Halfway done," he remarked. The Wolfos's tail thumped the ground in agreement. The youth started towards another one of the doors, only to falter in his brave strides. He could feel the peaceful stirrings of Navi as she slept, curled up against the nape of his neck. The Temple was quite dark, and he guessed that the sun had long since set in the west. Iamb cocked his head curiously to the side. "Are you tired at all?" the boy asked. Iamb yawned in response, and Link caught the yawn. "Fine. Let's find someplace to sleep for the night—somewhere secluded, where we'll be safe. Do you have any ideas?" The burly Wolfos scratched behind an ear thoughtfully, then trotted towards a door in the shadowy corner. Link followed without questioning, walking behind Iamb into a wide courtyard.

Truly, the sun had set, for the vaulting sky visible between the Temple's high walls was dark and scattered with stars like morning grass with dew. A single sickle of the Moon was all there could be seen, and it hung lonesomely in the darkness. Iamb's dark fur was nearly lost in the night, and Link kept a hand on the Wolfos's flank so they wouldn't lose each other. The air was cool, with only a hint of the cold that was yet to come with winter's frost. _Trees will soon lose their leaves, _the youth mused, _and then winter will be upon us before you know it._ The thought of that cold, lifeless season so near at hand worried him. He had a long way to go yet, many Temples to cleanse and Sages to release, and doing so in winter would not be pleasant. Iamb gave a low snort just as the young man banged the toe of his boot into a low stone wall. Jolted from his worried thoughts, Link looked down into a gaping hole, far darker than the night, and realized that he had almost tumbled in.

"Down in there?" he asked, for the Wolfos had his forepaws on the rim of the hole and was peering down into the blackness. Iamb looked over at him and nodded. "All right. I can see a ladder over on the other side, but how were _you_ planning on—" He broke off as Iamb dove into the pit in a sinuous twist of dark gray fur. He could hear the shuffling scrape of his claws as the mighty animal bounced nimbly from ledge to ledge on the sides of the stone wall. Shrugging, the youth started down the ladder. "Iamb, you will never cease to amaze me," he muttered, feeling a little jealous of the graceful Wolfos.

The bottom of the pit was pitch-black, with only a distant silver glow to show that it led somewhere else under the night sky. Iamb's golden gaze flickered dimly in the low light. Link kept his hand on the wall as he walked to meet the Wolfos. He could hear the slow slosh and murmur of water to his left, and pressed himself a little closer to the wall. His footsteps were muffled, probably due to moss or some other shadow-loving plant growing on the floor. He wondered if his breathing really was as loud as it seemed, or if the close-pressing walls of the tunnel were magnifying the sound. A gauntleted hand reached out and patted the darkness hesitantly, only to meet with a brush of coarse fur. "Iamb, I really hope that's your tail I just grabbed," the Hylian mumbled. He felt a hot tongue against his face and caught a whiff of the familiar smell of Wolfos-musk. "Oh, good, it _is_ you."

It took a bit of blind shuffling before man and beast were lying comfortably on the moss-carpeted floor. Link sighed heavily and leaned into Iamb's warm pelt. His head was spinning with tiredness. "It's been a long day, hasn't it?" he asked softly. The Wolfos grunted in response, sounding equally exhausted. "Still, I feel like we got a lot done, so tomorrow probably won't be as demanding." Iamb's tail thumped the ground a number of times and he gave the boy a gentle, affectionate bump with his muzzle. "All right...Good night."

It wasn't more than an hour before the Wolfos's heavy breaths were echoing against the stone walls of the tunnel. However, by that time, his Hylian companion was dead asleep, and not even the reverberating snores could rouse him. The pair slept peacefully through what remained of the night.

* * *

Soft daylight streamed in from both ends of the tunnel, the slanting rays playing across the slow-moving water to make the stone walls glow gently. It was a modest tunnel, really; but in its simplicity was beauty that the morning sun brought into view. Clinging ivy plants turned their pale-veined leaves towards the light, and the moss carpeting the floor of the passageway glistened with dew. The arched ceiling was high and smooth; a few thick, twisted roots poked between gaps in the stones, and a couple of courageous spiders had spun their gossamer webs amongst them. The weather-smoothed walls were resplendent in their coats of greenery. Flicks of silver in the small channel revealed the presence of a school of minnows, which darted and swerved through the calm water with the incredible unified choreography unique to the piscine world. All of this passed unnoticed by the young man lying in the middle of it. He lay on his back, his arms folded across his belly and his head turned to the side. He stayed asleep until a persistent sunbeam bounced off the water and into his face.

Link awoke alone, save for a rested and cheerful Navi, with no sign of his Wolfos companion. Iamb, it seemed, was very good at sliding out from under sleeping bodies without wakening them. A few crushed patches of moss suggested that he had left the tunnel earlier that morning—to hunt, Navi explained. Link rubbed his complaining stomach with a rueful expression. He hadn't eaten much the previous day, and now he was paying for it. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to grab his bow and head back into the Lost Woods. Finding small game couldn't be that hard—and if the bow failed him, the youth was not opposed to reverting to using his trusty old slingshot to stun his quarry.

His thoughts were interrupted by the rattle of claws at one end of the tunnel—it was hard to say which because of the strange echoes. Link stood, drawing the Master Sword warily. He held his tense crouch for a few moments, then relaxed as a shattered Skulltula dropped down into the passage. The spider-like monster was followed shortly by Iamb, who held another in his jaws. The Wolfos gazed at his two-legged friend, his tail wagging in greeting. The youth laughed. "Well, looks like you've got _your_ breakfast taken care of," he said. Iamb whuffed and shoved one of the arachnids towards him.

"He says he brought one for you," Navi explained. "He wants you to get a taste for Temple food...and that he won't be offended if you don't like it."

Link laughed. "You can't say no to someone who wants to feed you," he admitted. "Especially if they have claws like that." Iamb looked incredibly offended at the statement, only his eyes revealing that he enjoyed the joke. He padded closer to Link, brushing the first Skulltula across the mossy floor with a forepaw. The Hylian sat back down, cross-legged, on the floor and lifted the cracked carapace into his lap.

He studied it dubiously for a moment, a thousand questions running through his mind. What part should he eat—and how should he get to that part? Did it need to be cooked first? Most importantly, was it even edible to begin with? Though hesitant, Link was actually quite open to the idea of trying out what Navi had called "Temple food." He looked to Iamb, hoping to take his cues from the dark Wolfos.

Iamb was lounged across the floor of the tunnel, his Skulltula resting between his massive forepaws. His ears were pricked forward in interest, his head cocked to the side. At the sight of Link's nervous smile, though, he seemed to guess the problem. Whuffing invitingly, he bent his head and set his teeth around a shard of his own Skulltula's shell, then pulled it back. The young man gave a quiet _Ahh_ of comprehension at the sight of the flaky, white flesh the arachnid's outer shell protected. He ran his fingers over the broken carapace of the spider-monster he held in his lap until he came across a similar fragment, and tore it away.

The flavor that filled Link's mouth at the first taste of the slippery meat was both disgusting and strangely rich, something akin to vinegar and salt mixed. Chewing was nearly impossible—and even when he managed to clamp his teeth down the meat, another acidic burst of Skulltula juice filled his mouth. The sharp taste of it burned fiercely, tracing a line of fire down the back of his throat when he swallowed. When the white flesh slid to the bottom of his belly, the youth was left gasping for breath, his eyes watering. Navi hummed anxiously around his head, occasionally diving down to the Skulltula and zooming back up to his face in flicks of blue light. Even Iamb seemed concerned; he rose to his feet and ducked his massive head closer to the young Hylian's. Link closed his eyes and lifted a hand to his face, struggling to regain his breath.

"Well," he rasped after a few moments, his throat raw from the Skulltula's acidic juices. "That was...a wonderful new experience. One that I may or may not try again." When he lowered his hand back to his lap, his blue eyes were tinged with red around the edges, like those of a man fresh from a hot pepper-eating contest. "Iamb, have you really been eating _that_ all these years?" The Wolfos, who appeared more relaxed now that his friend was seemingly out of danger, shrugged and muttered.

"He says there have been other meals," Navi explained, "but that mostly, he and his brother have eaten Skulltulas. He also says it might be something you get used to after a while." She paused. "You look rough. If I were you, I'd put that thing down and look for something a little less sour."

"Like what?" Link asked. Before his fairy companion could make a suggestion, he added, "It wasn't _all_ bad, actually," and pulled another piece of meat free. "It's just that the flavor is so strong, it kind of takes you by surprise." He popped the second strip of meat into his mouth and swallowed. His daredevil grin quickly turned into an impressive wince that sent Navi tumbling through the air with laughter. Iamb shook his head, almost scornfully, as the youth again doubled over panting.

"You're going to kill yourself doing that," the fairy chided. Link flicked the air with his hand in a devil-may-care gesture. "You look like some of the men we saw in that bar in Kakariko." **(2)**

"How did we even _end up_ in that place?" the boy muttered. His right hand rested atop his stomach while his left gingerly rubbed his shoulder.

"Asking directions, I believe. And then you got pulled into a game of darts somehow."

"I didn't get pulled in," Link corrected her mildly. "I felt the need to show them the meaning of hand-eye coordination. And I _did_."

"By shooting darts with a slingshot!"

"I won, didn't I?"

Navi shook herself out impatiently. "The point is: Just like those men in the bar, what you're doing here can't _possibly_ be good for you in the long run." She sighed as the Hylian youth went through the motions of peeling another sliver of meat from the broken carapace and swallowing it in one rapid gulp. "Are you even listening to me?" She hummed in the air as she waited for an answer, which was a few minutes in coming.

"I think I am now." Delicately, Link slid the Skulltula from his lap towards Iamb. The burly beast looked up curiously. "You can finish that off if you'd like...I think I've had enough of it. I feel like it's burning a hole in my stomach right now." Iamb snorted softly, a sound that was part laughter and part sympathy, and laid one of his huge paws on the Skulltula. The boy scooted back and leaned against the wall of the tunnel while he waited for his Wolfos friend to finish eating. Though the actual experience of consumption had bordered on pain, Link had to admit that the spider-beast's flavor was not entirely unpleasant. And, strangely enough, the meat was more filling than anything he had ever eaten before.

_Maybe that's why Iamb got so big,_ he mused. _There's probably tons of protein in those things. _He paused as another thought occurred to him. _But that wouldn't explain why Bicca was so much smaller._

Iamb ate rapidly, literally wolfing down his meal. He seemed eager to get on the move again, but clearly his hunger had priority. Link watched the deft black jaws crunch and snap, the russet-hued tongue slurp and nudge. It was almost fascinating to watch the Wolfos tear apart his prey; he seemed to be acting on years of practice and habit. _It's a little hard to believe how far he's come,_ Link thought, a little amazed. _I remember how little Iamb was when I first saw him, how much he depended on Saria and me for his food...I never really saw him much after they moved into the Temple. Maybe once everything with Ganondorf is all settled out, I'll come and visit him._

His thoughts were interrupted by a splashing sound, followed by a spray of water that left glistening drops on the moss near his feet. Iamb had pushed the empty shells of the Skulltulas into the small river running through the tunnel, and was looking at Link somewhat impatiently. The youth pushed himself to his feet, brushed himself off, and started towards one of the well-like entrances to the tunnel. Iamb padded behind him, matching his strides evenly with every step.

* * *

"I've never seen this area of the Temple before," Iamb murmured to himself, gazing around the room in a mixture of suspicion and amazement. He licked his nose to sharpen his already-keen sense of smell, and regretted it almost immediately. The harsh reek of the Darkness seemed to ooze from the gray stone around him in sluggish, fetid pulses. Once more, guilt clutched his heart with tiny, white-hot claws. If only he had listened to his brother...If only he had over-hunted, like Bicca had when he though his older brother wasn't looking...If only, if only.

Almost as if he'd sensed the Wolfos's uneasy heartache, the green-man rested a gentle paw on Iamb's head and rubbed behind his ears. The warm, silvery scent that radiated from his body drove away his misgivings like the sun scattering dark fog. There was nothing he could have done for this part of the Temple, after all. Its entrance had been hidden behind a door wrapped in chains that not even the Man's deft paws could have opened; it had required something called a _kee_, which the green-man had found in another part of the old stone structure. The brothers combined could not have saved this low-down room from the Darkness's grasp. Now that the green-man had returned, however, there was nothing stopping Iamb from lashing out against the sickening shadows that had gathered.

As Man and beast padded down the long room, Iamb became aware of a strange grating noise that put him in mind of the not-wall outside the shadow-man's lair. The vibrations of sound pressed down on his ears harder as he neared the opposite end of the room, irritating him more and more. His ruff bristled at the rough grinding and sliding, for the more he heard, the more he thought of the hated Shadow. His claws flicked out reflexively, and they clattered across the graystone floors with every step he took. He knew it was pointless to be angry here, that his impotent rage would probably go unnoticed by the shadow-man; but over the past few years, he had found that letting his anger flare up—however futilely—was gratifying in some ways. Fury sharpened his talons and lent speed to his jaws; it made his muscles tireless and his heart strong. And now that the strength of his rage was allied with that of the Light, he felt even more unstoppable.

Dimly, Iamb heard the green-man say his name, and with a small shock, he realized that he had been prowling through the room with his fangs and claws on full display. The Wolfos quickly flipped his claws back up under his paws and dropped his snarl. His head turned to the right, following the green-man's pointing paw.

The floor in the narrow hallway stretching out before them was an intricate pattern of black and white squares. He glanced over at the green-man, as if seeking some answer from the two-legged creature the he could not find himself. The young Man had one foreleg folded over his chest, while the other reached up to press a fisted paw to his mouth in thought. As he stood at the edge of the hall, Iamb heard the grating sounds louder than ever—so loud, in fact, that the whole Temple seemed to be shaking with them. Clearly, the green-man was bothered by the noises as well; his pointed ears kept twitching with the sounds' steady rise in volume. Finally, in a blindingly fast rush of motion, something white fell across the mighty Wolfos's field of vision. He let out a strangled yelp of surprise, catapulting backwards in a defensive maneuver. The green-man stumbled away from the hall as well, landing rather gracelessly a few tails away from Iamb. The pair watched as a white slab of stone as wide and long as the hall itself rose from the ground with painful slowness.

Iamb studied the slab carefully as it drew upwards, feeling a line of fur prickling down his spine at the sight. Though living in the Temple had given him a chance to grow acclimated to things that would have terrified his wild cousins, this was something he had yet to see. His natural instinct told him to avoid things he could not explain or understand; his own mental agenda told him it was perfectly fine to observe said things while they were being avoided. It was during this cautious study that he came to an interesting conclusion: The slab was perforated with holes, and those holes fell over-top the black squares. That meant that, in theory, one could cross the hallway safely—even _with_ the falling slab. They would just have to make sure that they were standing on a black square when the white stone fell. Turning to the green-man, who was watching the slab rise into the darkened ceiling overhead, Iamb relayed this information.

"I didn't even notice that," the Man replied after the Navi's translation. "I was wondering if we would have to get on the stone slab and run across it to get through the hall." Iamb nodded. "I was trying to see just where the slab goes, to see what we might have to face if he rode it up. But you're right—running across and seeking safety on the black squares is probably our best bet."

"The Wolfos knows the Temple better than you do, huh, Link?" the Navi teased. The green-man was thoroughly unoffended by the taunt; he merely gave a serene smile and shrugged lightly.

"He's been living here, hasn't he?" Turning his attention back to the passageway ahead, the young Man frowned. "To get to the first couple of black squares, it's a good distance from where we stand. Not to mention that the slab falls fairly fast." He glanced over at Iamb. "Are you ready to run?"

Iamb lowered his head, flexing the powerful muscles in his back and shoulders with a rippling shudder. The thick ruff of fur around his neck lifted slightly with the motion, and the ring on his collar jingled softly. His moon-gold eyes glinted with a challenge. "I'm ready," he grunted. "It's you who should have his speed questioned." Still the same, the burly Wolfos planned to run ahead of the green-man with one ear twisted back. He wanted to know where his two-legged companion was, but also be able to help him out if things got rough. Man and beast eyed each other carefully, then darted across the smooth, cold floor.

The heavy grinding of the falling sheet of stone filled Iamb's furry ears with an angry thunder that seemed intent on drowning out the sound of the green-man's pounding paws. Already, the Wolfos could feel the rush of air that preceded the stone's fall tickling his furry ears. A patch of black squares, just big enough for himself to sit upright on his haunches with the young Man standing next to him, loomed tantalizingly close. A few more strides, and Iamb knew it would be his. Still keeping one ear trained carefully on the youth behind him, he lengthened his legs and pulled hard. The cool stone falling from above licked his pricked ear, as if teasing him. Gathering himself in a low crouch, the massive beast shot himself straight across the marble floor, to land on the black squares with time to spare. He sat up straight, whirled around to check the green-man's progress, and let out a thunderous howl of terror.

The green-man was running in a half crouch, with the stone slab pressing down on his back. His dark eyes were filled with the same chilling fear that coursed icily through Iamb's veins. As the dark Wolfos watched, the boy stumbled, pitching forward onto the cold,white floor just a few paces away from the black squares. He flipped himself onto his back nimbly, and struggled to pull the metal leaf strapped to his back. Iamb saw the slab falling fast, and knew that as much as he wanted, he could not help the green-man. His high shoulders would no longer fit in the gap between the floor and the slab; he could only watch in horror as the white stone swooped closer to the ground.

_I failed you, brother,_ he thought miserably, cringing. Remorse pounded through his heart and head. Bicca had guarded the green-man's life with his own, seen the truth that the Darkness had hidden from his older brother. The last known source of the silver Light lay beneath that icy, white sheet of rock; in a matter of seconds, there would be a crunch of bone, and the Light would be forever gone from the Forest Temple. Without his cheerful brother, without the green-man, Iamb wasn't sure how he could hope to defend the Temple. He threw back his head and keened hopelessly, his howls mingling with the young Man's terrified cries in a chorus of fear and death.

The stone slab came to a grinding halt, and the green-man's voice stopped with it.

**(1) See also: "horseshoes, hand grenades, and backseat encounters." Because in Hyrule, there are no cars, and hence no backseats. So amorous advances must take place somewhere else. I adore this expression, and hence worked hard to find a way to put it into this story.  
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**(2) People taking shots has always been a mystery to me. If you ask my opinion, alcohol should be enjoyed slowly, not thrown back with reckless abandon. Not that my opinion matters, since I can't legally drink yet.**


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